


There are four of us now.

by RedStarFiction



Series: Time Moves To A Different Rhythm. [2]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Beyond The Brink of Madness AU(http://archiveofourown.org/works/5816776/chapters/13404748)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There are four of us now.

Claire sat at her dressing table, absentmindedly brushing her hair, watching Bree and wee Ian chase each other around the courtyard with sticks shouting Gaelic war-cries and a variety of threats to each other’s gizzards, guts and throats. The two of them had quickly become thick as thieves and even when they fell out, which seemed to happen around once a day, they faced their parents as an indivisible unit. It delighted Claire to see Bree with her cousins and the thought of her being a big sister made Claire’s heart swell with joy.  
She placed a hand over her stomach and smiled. She couldn’t say for sure when she had become pregnant but if she had to guess she would say that it must have been within the first couple of weeks of their reunion. After the trauma of Faith and the miracle of Brianna, it seemed impossible to Claire that she could be pregnant again and at nearly forty years old too!  
She had decided that she wouldn’t tell Jamie until the first trimester was complete and by Claire’s calculations, that hurdle was now over. Her belly was beginning to swell and although Jamie had not mentioned anything, she felt sure that he must have noticed something by now.  
A wayward curl caused her to snag her hair sharply and it brought her out of the reverie, frowning at the brush she placed it on the dresser and sighed. There was no denying that along with the joy of another baby she was also terrified. Her last two pregnancies had been difficult and without twentieth century medical care, Claire doubted that she would have survived Brianna’s birth. However everything was different this time. She had no nausea, no mood swings, nothing that would suggest her body was not in perfect harmony with itself. Jamie was in a very different place too, he was in a not recovering from Randall’s torture, nor was he preparing for a battle and a destiny that he could not change. Their lives were no longer governed by the drums of war, they were now peacefully entwined with the seasons and the bustle of Lallybroch and no one could take that away from them.  
“Whatever ye are thinking Sassenach, it must be pleasant.”  
Claire jumped and turned to find Jamie leaning against the doorframe, his arms were lightly folded across his chest and he was watching her with a gentle look in his eyes that she was seeing more and more as he relaxed into their new way of life.  
“I was just thinking how glad I am for everything we have here.”  
“No bubblegum or Perry Mason though.”  
Jamie grinned  
“Ahh, our daughter has been regaling you again.”  
Claire laughed. Jamie nodded thoughtfully  
“Aye, though I still dinna ken that I believe in winged metal coaches that take people across the world through the sky.”  
He quirked an eyebrow at Claire and she grinned back at him. It had become somewhat of a private game between he and Brianna that she would tell him things about the future but occasionally make something up and Jamie had to root out the false. Both Claire and Bree had explained aeroplanes to him but he was still dubious and convinced that they were teasing him.  
“But submarines didn’t faze you?”  
“Weel, I dinna say as I am completely convinced but a man can hold his breath, aye? So the principle is there to begin wi’, flying though …”  
Jamie crossed to the dressing table and placed his hands on Claire’s shoulders, his thumbs massaging the base of her neck in slow, smooth circles. Claire hummed contentedly and let her head roll back against Jamie’s stomach.  
“I need to talk to you.”  
She murmured, reaching round and stroking the back of one long, powerful leg. She felt his muscles quiver beneath her fingers and ever so lightly dug her nails in, pulling her fingers steadily upward.  
“Aye? Weel I’m listening, though ye may wish to keep ye hand low if ye wish me to have any memory of what ye say.”  
Jamie slid his hand down to catch her wrist and moved to squat down before her, keeping hold of her fingers, not wanting to break the physical contact between them.  
“What’s amiss Sassenach?”  
Claire took a breath and studied Jamie’s face, committing each new detail to memory. The way the sunlight caught the deep red of his hair and leant a golden appearance to the smattering of grey now threaded through the curls. The deep creases beside his eyes and the side of his mouth, proof of a life lived with humour.  
“Sassenach?”  
Jamie prodded gently, a small frown of concern appearing on his brow.  
“Jamie … I …”  
Claire shook her head realising she was about to cry and no idea why.  
“Jamie, I’m pregnant.”  
“Is it mine?”  
Jamie rasped his throat suddenly dry. Claire jerked as if he’d slapped her. Of all the reactions she had prepared for, this was not one of them.  
“What?! Of course it’s bloody yours!”  
She snapped, yanking her hand out of his and glaring at him.  
“Forgive me Claire, I didna mean … it’s only … so soon? Ye ken?”  
Jamie held up his hands and Claire nodded curtly  
“Well I was surprised too.”  
“Aye, o’ course. Truly mo chridhe, I am sorry, I had no intention to offend ye I just didna think… weel I mean…Are ye sure then?”  
“I am.”  
Claire nodded again  
“About 3 months I think.”  
Jamie’s eyes went wide  
“Really? Ye think perhaps Helwater…?”  
“Or the inn or that layby or the stables, possibly the bench by the pond …”  
Claire recited, ticking off each possibility on her fingers, feeling a twinge of mean spirited pleasure at the self-conscious blush that spread across her husband’s cheeks.  
“I grasp ye meaning Sassenach.”  
Jamie said dryly and stood up, drawing Claire out of her seat to stand with him  
“We’re havin’ another baby.”  
“We are.”  
Claire confirmed and slowly the sweetest smile she had ever seen lit up Jamie’s face, happiness radiated from him with such intensity Claire forgot her irritation with him.  
“I’m goin’ to be a Da again! I can make a wee basket for ye to carry him out into the garden wi’ ye so ye can do ye wee herbs …”  
“Him?”  
Claire smiled and Jamie grinned sheepishly  
“Weel we have had two girls so maybe a boy this time? Though another wee lassie would be wonderful …”  
He added hastily, letting go of her as he began pacing the bedroom  
“Have ye told Brianna?”  
“No of course not! I wanted to tell you first!”  
“We should tell her! And Jenny too! They’ll be sae pleased! Brianna will be a fine big sister and I ken Jenny will want to begin knitting right away…”  
His excitement was infectious and Claire felt her worries melting away.  
“So you are pleased then?”  
“Pleased? Sassenach, nothin’ could make me happier!”  
Jamie came to stand before her again and reached out, gently placing his hand over her stomach and bowed his head to hers, so close his eyes formed one bright blue orb in her vision.  
“Ye ha’ given me so much Claire, more than I could ha’ ever dreamed o’ having. I let ye down twice, once wi’ Faith and then Brianna but I swear this time will be different…”  
His voice was choked with emotion and Claire felt a lump rise in her own throat as she shushed him.  
“You never let us down! It’s all different this time Jamie, we are safe, our baby is safe.”  
“Aye and I mean to see to it that ye stay that way, always.”  
Jamie promised, placing a kiss between her brows.  
“Thank ye mo nighean donn. For everything that has been and all that is to come. For my family.”  
"Your welcome,"  
Claire smiled up at him  
"There are the four of us now."


	2. Arrival.

“Ah dhia! I can feel him Sassenach!”  
Jamie beamed down at her, as his hands spread across the front of her shift, cupping her belly reverently.  
“He’s a strong kicker.”  
Claire yawned, smiling blearily back at Jamie. She loved how excited he was by everything their unborn child did but dawn had not yet broken and she was rather hoping that both her husband and baby would calm down so that she could go back to sleep.  
“He is … Och! Do ye see that mo nighean donn? It is a fist, I’m sure o’ it!”  
Jamie kissed the tiny bump of heel or fist and Claire reached down to smooth his hair, smiling despite herself.  
“He’s trying to warn his father what might be coming if his mother isn’t allowed to sleep soon.”  
Jamie squirmed his way down the bed and rested his chin on her thigh so that he was on eye level with where Claire estimated the baby’s head was.  
“Thank ye for the warning mo gradhe, but I fear no one can save me from the wrath of ye Mam once her dander is up. I’d best bid ye good night.”  
Jamie gave Claire’s belly another kiss before shifting himself up to lie beside her, gathering her to his chest.  
“No long now Sassenach and ye’ll be able to order us both from the room when ye wish to sleep.”  
Claire chuckled against him and slid her fingers through the soft red curls on his chest.  
“Oh? You’re going to be the one to get up with him are you?”  
“Of course!”  
Jamie said and Claire smiled at how affronted he sounded at the question  
“If he is hungry he’ll need his Mam but if it is just trouble sleepin’ I dinna see why I canna help.”  
Claire kissed the smooth skin by his armpit and Jamie squeaked in a particularly feminine manner.  
“Ach! That’s no’ verra fair Sassenach, not while I canna defend myself!”  
“Can you not?”  
“No, I dinna wish to jiggle ye around too much in case I bring on ye labours, ken?”  
“If this child takes much longer to make an appearance I may insist that you do just that!”  
Claire huffed and rolled onto her back with a sigh  
“God! I forgot just how bizarre it feels to be the size of a horse!”  
“Parts o’ ye ha’ always been a wee bit equine Sassenach…”  
Jamie teased, patting her hip.  
“Your haunches have always …”  
“Haunches?!”  
Claire gasped with a squeak of her own  
“Aye! Ye haunches ha’ always been verra proud and more than a wee bit horse-like.”  
Claire narrowed her eyes at him and gave a very convincingly equestrian snort. Jamie laughed, loudly and Claire hushed him  
“You’ll wake Bree!”  
“That lass is like her mother, she sleeps through anything!”  
Jamie smiled, tracing the outline of Claire’s body from chees to naval with his finger.  
“Ye are more beautiful than ye ken Claire. I dinna think I can even begin to tell ye…”  
Jamie bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes a moment  
“Ye … glow, Claire. It’s like there is a light within ye and it is radiating out into the world. Ye body is harbouring our child, it has changed and adapted like nature itself and I ha’ the privilege o’ seeing ye so. I canna tell ye just how much it inflames me to see ye like this and yet as much as I want to ravish ye, claim ye as my own wi’ every fibre o’ my being and yet at the same time I can stand to do no more than fall on my knees and worship at ye feet.”  
He finished speaking and looked at Claire properly, his lip quirking upwards.  
“I canna wait to meet our bairn, but I will miss all that carryin’ him does to ye.”  
*

“DA!”  
Brianna ran towards the men, waving her arms frantically.  
“DA!”  
“What is it?”  
Jamie called, craning his neck to try and see Brianna without dropping the end of the plough and crushing his nephew who was oiling the wheels beneath. Brianna clambered over the fence separating them and came to a stumbling halt, almost crashing into him.  
“Mama …. Mama is having the baby!”  
She panted and Jamie startled, almost dropping it.  
“Are ye sure?”  
“Aye! Come on!”  
Bree urged, her eyes wide with excitement.  
“Ian! Ian get out from under this thing! Claire’s havin’ the bairn!”  
Jamie shouted and wee Ian’s face popped out from beneath the plough.  
“Is she?”  
He asked, his cheeks were smeared with grease and he had bits of wheat chaff in his hair and Brianna looked at him as if he was an idiot.  
“Yes, she is. Now get out of the way! Da and I need to go!”  
She snapped. Ordinarily her tone would have caused a scrap but sensing the urgency of the situation Ian hastily scrabbled back and nodded to his uncle.  
“Clear Uncle Jamie!”  
He called and Jamie lowered the plough to the earth as carefully and as quickly as he could.  
“Good lad.”  
Jamie wiped his hands down his breeks and hurried over to the horses.  
“Ian, Bree, wait here. I’ll send Fergus to help finish the job …”  
“I’m coming with you!”  
Bree said determinedly but Jamie shook his head  
“No, stay here. I’ll fetch ye as soon as…”  
“I’m coming.”  
Bree said obstinately and Jamie glanced round at her in surprise. He had known that at some point they would butt heads and in truth he had been expecting it to happen a lot sooner than it had, but he really didn’t have time to exert his patriarchal authority right now.  
“Will ye no’ do as ye are told?”  
He asked, forcing as much authority into his voice as he could.  
“No. Not unless I am told to get on the horse with you and go to Mama.”  
Bree said, her chin sticking out stubbornly  
“And if I told ye there would be consequences?”  
“Fine. But later.”  
Bree shrugged  
“Ye dinna even want to ken what the consequences may be?”  
Jamie asked as he unlooped the reigns from the fence post, intrigued by his daughter’s stubbornness.  
“It doesn’t matter right now. Will you help me up please?”  
Bree said, standing beside the horse, one leg raised. Jamie had to use all his force not to actually laugh at the realisation that she had never sounded more like Claire to him before and he sighed in resignation.  
“Alright, but dinna make a habit o’ defyin’ me.”  
He muttered, boosting Bree up into the saddle and swinging up behind her.  
“I won’t. Now let’s go!”  
Bree commanded and whilst suppressing a smile, Jamie urged the horse forward.  
*  
Jamie had been in the room with Claire for all of five minutes when the midwife arrived and shooed him out.  
“I want to stay!”  
He had insisted, one foot jammed in the doorway to prevent the midwife slamming it in his face.  
“And I want to work, laddie. We canna both have our way so which is it?”  
Jamie glared into her wizened old eyes and she shrugged.  
“Ye can gi’ me evil looks and ye wife will no doubt call me evil names but my concern is to bring the babe into the world and keep ye wife here wi’ ye all. Can ye do that yeself?”  
“No.”  
Jamie croaked and flinched as another wail tore from Claire’s lips.  
“Da?”  
Bree appeared beside him and slipped her hand into his.  
“Tend to yer wee lass, let me tend to ye wife and wean.”  
The old woman admonished and Jamie grudgingly removed his foot as she withdrew into the room. The door was shut firmly in his face and Jamie pressed his free hand against the wood.  
“Is Mama going to be OK?”  
Bree asked, her teeth set firmly in her bottom lip.  
“Aye, o’course a leannan.”  
Jamie answered though he was too distracted to make it very convincing.  
“How long does it take? To have a baby I mean?”  
Bree looked up at him and Jamie saw his own fear reflected back through identical blue eyes. With considerable effort he pushed his own feelings aside and nodded towards the stairs.  
“It takes a fair while and I could use a bite to eat while we wait.”  
He smiled at Bree and urged her ahead of him, turning to look at the door one more time.  
*  
Jenny found them in Jamie’s study hours later. Bree was sat on her father’s lap, dozing against his chest and Jamie had one arm wrapped around her, the other hand working his old rosary beads, mumbling prayers in a steady low whisper.  
He looked up as Jenny entered and carefully lowered the beads onto the wooden desk top with a sound like gentle rain.  
“Will ye come and meet yer son, Jamie?”  
“A boy?”  
Jamie breathed, a smile tugging at his lips  
“Aye.”  
“Claire?”  
Jenny's heart ached for him, the mixture of hope and fear playing across his features was so pure. “Tired, but doing fine. She’s feeding him at the moment. Dark hair like his mother, but definitely his father’s appetite.”  
Jenny beamed. Jamie nodded and ran a hand over his face, wiping away the tears that had escaped his lashes.  
“Thank you.”  
He murmured.  
“I’ll gi’ ye a moment, aye? Come up when ye’re ready.”  
Jamie nodded and waited for the door to close before nudging Brianna.  
“Bree? Bree, mo chridhe wake up.”  
Bree opened her eyes and for a moment blinked at him and then memory kicked in and she sat upright.  
“Mama?”  
“Ye Mam is doing well and ye have a wee baby brother waiting to meet ye upstairs.”  
Bree gasped and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly her smile radiant.  
“Can we go and see him Da? And Mama?”  
“Aye, come.”  
Jamie stood her up and smoothed her dress down.  
Together they made their way up the stairs, Jamie hushing her as they approached the laird’s room.  
“Ye must be verra gentle and quiet wi’ both o’ them.”  
He cautioned and Bree nodded earnestly.  
Jamie edged the door open and his breath caught in his throat. Claire was propped up in bed against the pillows, her hair curling in a halo around her head, illuminated by the last light of the day. In her arms their son lay swaddled in a white blanket as she fed him, small happy noises coming from him as he greedily ate his first meal.  
Brianna squeezed past Jamie’s legs and dashed to her Mama’s side, staring reverently down at her brother  
“He’s so tiny!”  
She gasped and carefully crawled onto the bed, tucking herself under the arm that Claire offered out to her, nestling into her mother’s side.  
It was a sight Jamie had dreamt of so many time and one that he never dared hope he would actually see. He allowed himself a few more moments to memorize them, just as they were before his eyes met with Claire’s and he was drawn to her like the tide.  
He kissed his wife’s forehead and gently stroked his son’s chubby cheek.  
“He’s perfect Sassenach.”  
Jamie whispered. The swaddling had come loose and one tiny clenched fist appeared beside the baby’s face. Jamie ran the tip of his index finger along the little dimpled knuckles and slowly the hand opened, grasping Jamie’s finger tightly.  
He let out a breath of a laugh and shook his head in amazement.  
“Aye, ye ken ye Da, don’t ye wee man?”  
Jamie smiled as Bree shifted to get a better look  
“What’s his name?”  
She asked and Jamie and Claire looked at each other.  
“Robert.”  
Claire smiled  
“Robert Ian Murtagh Fraser.”  
Bree wrinkled her nose  
“What a horrid name!”  
She looked down at her baby brother and grinned  
“Don’t worry little brother, I’m going to call you Robbie.”


	3. The Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
> I have edited this chapter quite a lot because it just wasn't gelling with the next instalment and I want to work a bit more with Jamie and Robbie before I jump into Bree and Ian's relationship. I am sorry for chopping things up and I hope to have the next instalment up shortly :)

Jamie winced as Robert took another fistful of hair and pulled.  
“Gently a charaid!”  
“GID-YUP!”  
Robert squealed, bouncing excitedly on Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie rolled his eyes but obligingly snorted and whinnied like a horse and began jogging, much to his son’s delight. He slowed back down to a walk as Lallybroch came into view.  
“Good Da! Nice Da!”  
Robert cooed, patting his father’s head gently. Jamie smiled to himself and lifted the little boy over his head lowering him to the ground.  
“Right, down ye go before ye pluck me completely bald!”  
“Noooo! Up! Up!”  
Robert shrieked but Jamie shook his head.  
“No, down. Ye can walk the rest o’ the way. I ken ye legs are no’ that tired.”  
Robert sat down in the middle of the path and Jamie deftly stepped over him and continued walking, although his pace slowed.  
“If ye dinna come home ye’ll miss ye supper!”  
He called over his shoulder. Jamie waited for either the beginning wail of a tantrum or the soft thumping of his son running to catch up with him but there was only silence.  
He sighed and tried to look over his shoulder without actually turning round. Claire tended to fuss over the lad and although he was still a wean, he wouldn’t be forever and Jamie didn’t want him growing up thinking that a sulk would bring everyone running.  
“Raibeart?”  
He called, the Gaelic version of his sons full name which he used when the wean was being a bother. Nothing. Jamie took a breath and turned around to find the path empty.  
“Raibeart?”  
Jamie span round looking for the tell-tale mop of dark curls amongst the green foliage  
“Robert! Answer me!”  
Jamie barked, panic rose in his chest. There was nowhere for the child to be hiding but the sun was so bright …  
“Careful Fraser…”  
Jamie jerked and turned to the voice. Jack Randall stood, blocking the path to Lallybroch, a small smile playing on his lips as Robert sat, oblivious, at his feet.  
“The sins of the father sometimes are visited on the son Jamie…”  
Jamie was frozen to the spot, his vocal cords strained, muscles bulging in his throat but no sound came.  
Randall bent down and lifted the boy up and Jamie managed a strangled scream  
“I’ll come wi’ ye. Leave my lad! Ye can do as ye like wi' me.”  
Randall's lips curved and he gave Jamie a hollow stare, turning toward Lallybroch. Robbie looked at Jamie over his shoulder, slanted cat eyes, the colour of whiskey locking with Jamie’s own tortured sapphire gaze.  
Jamie blinked the sweat from his eyes and as his vision refocussed it was no longer Robert but Brianna, held fast against Randall’s chest.  
“Bree…!”  
Jamie gasped but the girl barely looked at him, she was gazing intently at Randall  
“Daddy, who is that man?”  
“BREE! BRIANNA! It’s no’ Frank! Dinna go wi’ him! BREE!”  
Jamie cried, the sun light was getting brighter despite the late hour and Jamie threw up a hand to shield his eyes that he might keep sight of his daughter a little longer.  
*  
“Jamie! Jamie!”  
Claire ducked back just in time as the back of his hand swiped upwards. His reflexes were dull with sleep enabling her to catch his hand and hold onto it.  
“Jamie, love, wake up.”  
Finally his eyes fluttered open and a heartbeat later he sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. Claire cupped his cheek with her free hand and made eye contact with him, grounding him with her steady gaze, drawing him back to his surroundings.  
“Sorcha! Mo balach, mo leanabh … Uile-bheist … Dubh!”  
He panted, gripping her arm hard enough to leave bruises. Claire made a hushing noise but Jamie was still half-wild, the Gaelic tumbled from his lips too fast for her to follow properly and he would not be calmed.  
“Brianna and Robert are much safe.”  
Claire stumbled through the Gaelic, forcing all of the conviction she could into her voice to make up for the clumsy phrasing. Despite being poorly worded the message finally seemed to reach Jamie and his grip on her arm loosened.  
“Claire?”  
“I’m here, Robbie is in his cot. Brianna is in bed. They’re fine. We’re fine.”  
She murmured and pulled him to her chest. Jamie rested his forehead against her breastbone, his arms circling her waist, drawing himself close.  
“I’m sorry”  
He choked as Claire stroked his hair.  
“It’s alright. Do you want to see them?”  
She felt him nod against her and stood up drawing him from the bed. Robbie was sprawled in his cot in his favourite sleeping position, his arms spread-eagled across the pillow. Jamie gripped the edges hard enough to make the wood creak and bowed his head.  
After a minuet Claire led him along the corridor to Bree’s room and nudged the door open quietly. Jamie stepped past her and crouched beside Bree’s bed, gently pulling the blanket up to cover her shoulder. He bowed his head again and Claire saw his lips move in silent prayer.  
This time Jamie stood of his own accord and made his way back to her easing the door shut behind him. Claire stepped back against the bannister to give him space but Jamie pulled her towards him and folded his arms around her with a heavy sigh.  
“I’m sorry Claire.”  
He whispered and she felt his arms trembling against her shoulders.  
“It’s alright. Was it him again?”  
Claire whispered back, refusing to say Randall’s name.  
“Aye, he didna touch me but he had Robert and then Bree … just standing wi’ them but …”  
He shuddered and his teeth began to chatter.  
“Let’s go back to bed.”  
Claire urged and Jamie nodded moving with her, keeping one hand on her back, maintaining contact.  
“Dinna feel that ye need to stay awake on my account Sassenach. I'll bide here a while.”  
Jamie kept his voice low as he sank down into the chair Claire kept beside Robert's cot.  
“I'll sit with you”  
Claire smiled as she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and handed another to Jamie.  
“No lass, get some sleep. I've disturbed ye enough for one night.”  
Claire opened her mouth to protest further but Jamie shook his head tersely  
“Please Claire.”  
She took in the set of his jaw and the tired lines around his eyes, deeper than normal and nodded.  
“Wake me if you need me.”  
Jamie nodded and spread the blanket over himself, sighing as he settled down.  
Claire settled herself under the quilts and tucked her arm beneath the pillow.  
“Good night Jamie.”  
“Good night Sassenach.”  
Claire watched him covertly for a few more minutes until the flickering light of the candle she had hastily lit when she heard him crying out in his sleep, finally went out. But even without the light she knew he would be slumped low in the seat, one arm through the slats of Robbie's crib, fingers lightly resting on his son's leg.  
*  



	4. Morning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was quite a lot going on in this chapter and I wanted to try and fit some of the requests I had in too.  
> One request that came up in my inbox quite a bit was Jamie disciplining Bree and Robert and I have touched on that here, so fair warning to anyone who hates that stuff.  
> Another request was about Jamie hurting Claire and feeling bad, well once again, that is in here too, so please if it will upset you feel free to skip this chapter. It was really difficult to write it out but a HUGE thank you for everyone who took the time to message me, or comment/kudos my work.

Robbie woke in the early hours of the morning, he seemed quite content to babble away to himself and clap his hands but Jamie hastily carried him out of the room before he could wake Claire all the same.  
“Dadadadada!”  
Robbie chanted, as his father carried him down the stairs towards the kitchen. Jamie sat them both at the table, the dim grey light of morning filtering through the windows. Jamie yawned, his jaw cracking with the force of it and Robbie grinned at him.  
“Sleepy Da!”  
“Aye, sleepy Da.”  
Jamie smiled ruefully back at the little boy and gently tussled his hair, his grin widening as he moved his hand and watched the dark curls spring out from beneath his fingers with the same wild determination as Claire's locks.  
“Should we see about some breakfast as we're up?”  
He asked but to his surprise Robbie shook his head firmly  
“No! Down!”  
Jamie obligingly lifted Robbie down from his seat and watched as the lad toddled beneath the table. Robbie was a particularly late walker, having favoured a remarkably quick crawl for far longer than any of other bairns had. Jenny joked that he must have a touch of Jamie's feral nature about him to prefer being on all fours but the lad seemed happy enough so beyond encouraging him, they had more or less left him to it. Then one day, when Claire was tidying away his toys and had taken a particular wooden cow that Robbie was favouring that day, he had simply stood up, walked over to the toy chest and retrieved it from the box his mother placed it in. From then on he seemed to have forsaken the crawl and developed his confidence with walking more and more.  
As Jamie pondered this, Robbie popped out from beneath the table, a gnawed carrot clenched in his chubby hand.  
“DA!”  
He beamed, waving the carrot at Jamie. Whether it was meant as a gift or whether he was trying to inform Jamie that he resembled the carrot, his father could not tell but he accepted it never the less and held the soggy vegetable gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.  
“Dinna put things in ye mouth that ye find on the floor!”  
Jamie scolded and Robbie's grin vanished as he stuck his bottom lip out and scowled at his father.  
“Mine!”  
“No, not yours.”  
Jamie put the carrot on the table top and braced himself for a Fraser tantrum. Claire had, quite rightly, noted that Robbie never looked so much like his father as when he was on the verge of temper. His little face would flush crimson and there was something so completely *JAMIE* about the look he would give the offending adult that it was almost impossible not to laugh, which of course made the situation worse.  
Robbie looked down his nose at his father and turned on his heel, only wobbling slightly, and disappeared back under the table. Jamie was momentarily dumbstruck by the dismissive action but then let out a bark of a laugh and stuck his head under the table to see exactly what the wee fiend was up to.  
“What are ye … Raibeart!”  
Robbie looked up guiltily at his father, a left over cabbage leaf hanging from his lips.  
Jamie clucked his tongue against his teeth and half lifted, half dragged the lad out sitting him on his lap and removing the faded leaf from his mouth.  
“Ye Mam would ha' a fit if she saw ye do that.”  
Jamie murmured, wiping the boys chin with the cuff of his sleeve and making an exaggerated 'O' with his mouth as he did so, making Robbie giggle. Unlike his father and sister, Robbie's temper was slow to flare and quicker to fade, definitely more Claire.  
“Ye are a gentle wee soul, ken?”  
Jamie grinned, kissing his son's small nose. Robbie wrapped his arms around Jamie's neck and nuzzled in close.  
“Nice Da.”  
He said, patting Jamie's cheek with his left hand. Jamie turned to kiss the little palm but frowned slightly. Robbie was leading more and more frequently with his left hand in things. At first Jamie had not really noticed but the more dexterous the boy got the more apparent it became.  
“I'm sorry lad, that'll be my fault.”  
He said softly, setting Robbie back on the floor and watching as he wandered over to the cupboards to investigate their contents. Jamie curled his left hand instinctively remembering all the times his school masters had belted him for using it and his scowl deepened. He didn't blame the school master as such, the man was only doing what he thought was right, although perhaps he could have been a little less zealous in his ministrations, but Jamie certainly didn't want his son going through the same thing.  
“Well ye willna have to worry about getting in trouble at home for it, I promise ye that.”  
“In trouble at home for what?”  
Jamie jumped and turned to face his daughter, standing in the doorway rubbing her eyes blearily.  
“Good morning a leannan.”  
He smiled warmly and stood, opening his arms to her. Bree gratefully shuffled into the warmth of her father's embrace and quickly placed her feet over his, avoiding the cold of the flagstone floor.  
“BWEEEEEE!!”  
Robbie squealed and hurried over to his sister, arms already raised. Bree stifled another yawn and turned to her brother, lifting him up.  
“Hi little brother!”  
Bree grinned at him and Robbie favoured her with a wet kiss on her chin.  
“Ugh! Thanks!”  
Bree scrunched her nose and wiped her chin on her shoulder.  
“Did ye sleep well lass?”  
“Mmhhm. How about you?”  
Bree set Robbie down and joined her father at the stove.  
“Aye, well enough.”  
Jamie placed a kiss on the top of her head as he reached for the kettle of steaming water.  
Brianna watched him pour water into the teapot and inhaled to fragrant steam as it billowed into the air.  
“So what is Robbie in trouble for? When I came in you were saying...”  
“Och, no, it was only I think Robbie may be left handed.”  
Jamie crossed to the counter and began to sort out porridge for breakfast  
“That's not his fault.”  
Bree's brow crinkled and Jamie smiled  
“No, I ken that. It's just that teachers like ye to write with ye right hand, it's no considered proper or elegant to write wi' ye left. Unfortunately I think ye brother may take after me wi' it.”  
“You got in trouble for that?”  
“Aye, at school I did, and the rule was that if ye got a hiding at school, ye got another directly when ye got home.”  
“That's horrible!”  
Brianna's frown deepened and Jamie smiled at her  
“Aye, I wasna to fond a that rule myself.”  
Jamie stirred the oats into the milk and water mixture, adding just a pinch of salt and surveyed his daughter out of the corner of his eye. She could hide her emotions well enough if she was prepared but caught unawares Bree tended to have her mother's glass face.  
“Dinna fash, I dinna blame ye Grandda but it isna somethin' I will be enforcin' wi' ye or Robert.”  
Jamie had only physically disciplined Brianna twice in the two years she had been at Lallybroch. The first time had been for swearing directly after he had warned her about the use of foul language and had been something of a shock for both of them, and the second had been for fighting with wee Ian and breaking a vase, which had been less of a shock but no less unpleasant.  
Bree noticed her father rub the palm of his hand self-conciously on the leg of his breeks and blushed, obviously he had been thinking of the same thing she had and although she'd had no trouble sitting to her supper, she had found it pretty difficult to make eye contact with anyone at the table out of embarrassment and the memory of it all still rankled.  
Her father's laugh brought her out of her reverie  
“When ye are disgruntled, I think ye look more like ye Mam than ever!”  
Bree grinned shyly and pushed her hair back behind her ears  
“Shall I take Robbie to feed the dogs?”  
“Aye, that would be a help lass.”  
Jamie squeezed her shoulder lightly and Bree retrieved her brother from the cupboard he had clambered into.  
“Come on Robbo!”  
*  
Claire woke to the sound of laughter coming from outside. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, slightly disorientated by the direction the noise had come from.  
She crossed to the window and looked down into the garden. She could see Bree and Jamie taking it in turns to chase Robbie along the grassy rows lining her seedlings and from the delighted squeals, her son was absolutely thrilled about it.  
As she watched, Jamie turned and began to chase Brianna, who let out a delighted shriek of her own and ran for it. At eleven years old Bree was beginning to bridge that awkward age between child and adolescent but was still young enough to enjoy such games sometimes.  
“ROBBIE! GET DA!”  
Bree cackled as Jamie caught up to her and Claire laughed at the sight of Robbie's curly head bowed in concentration as he charged towards them.  
“Och! I'm surrounded!”  
Jamie dropped to a crouch and let Robbie barrel into him, whilst Bree stepped daintily out of the way, face flushed with laughter.  
By the time Claire dressed and went downstairs, the three of them were sprawled out on the grass eating bannocks.  
“Good morning!”  
She called, pouring a mug of tea and stepping outside to join them.  
“Morning Mama!”  
Bree waved  
“MAM!”  
Robbie squealed and held his arms out, all but throwing himself from Jamie's lap to get to Claire.  
“Good morning my darling!”  
Claire cooed, putting her tea down and sitting next to Jamie, holding her arms out. Robbie nestled into her embrace and grabbed a handful of her hair, burying his face against the ends of it.  
“Did we wake ye?”  
Jamie asked, trailing his fingers up the length of Claire's calf muscles.  
“No, besides if this one is awake, I should be!”  
“Ah, weel today Master Fraser decided to wake before the rooster.”  
Jamie smiled, reaching out to tug the boy's nightshirt down where it had scrunched up around his belly. Claire looked at him guiltily  
“Were you already up? Normally I'd hear him...”  
“Dinna fash Sassenach.”  
Jamie waved away her apology before turning his attention to Bree who was in the process of making an incredibly long and intricate daisy crown. She had given him a small pile to work through himself and he was almost finished.  
“OW! OW MAM!”  
Robbie pointed at his mother's arm, a frown creasing his brow. Claire looked down at her arm's and saw the dark bruising, four thick blotches on each forearm where Jamie had grabbed her the night before.  
“Oh dear!”  
Claire said, smiling brightly at him, tugging down her sleeve and hoping Jamie hadn't noticed but a glance at her husband's face told her that he had. Jamie's mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes unreadable even to Claire.  
“Mama had an accident.”  
“Poor Mama.”  
Robbie nodded sympathetically, since learning to walk he fully understood bumps and bruises.  
“You have crumbs all over yourself, young man!”  
Claire beamed brightly and stood lifting both Robbie and her tea with her.  
“Once I have the young master cleaned up, can I bring either Sir or Madam anything from the kitchens?”  
She asked, curtsying. Bree grinned and nudged her father  
“I say, mother! I wouldn't half say no to a plate of eggs with toast!”  
Her English accent was abysmal but Jamie's was worse  
“I would all-so like some smoked beer-can...”  
He broke of as Bree started laughing and squinted at her accusingly.  
“Aye well ye get the gist Sassenach.”  
“I normally do!”  
Claire chuckled, running her hand through his hair as she headed towards the kitchen.  
*  
After breakfast Jamie asked Bree to clean Robbie up and took Claire into his study, closing the door softly behind him.  
“Oh dear! The Lairds study?”  
Claire asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully at her husband. Jamie snorted in response as he drew her close to him and gently slid her sleeve up, revealing the blemished skin of her forearm.  
“Sassenach, I am so, truly sorry for these.”  
“Oh Jamie, don't be. It was an accident...”  
Claire cupped his cheek in her palm and searched his eyes with hers, deep blue sorrow looked back at her and she sighed  
“Jamie...”  
“Ye should be able to sleep in ye own bed wi'out fear o' bein' hurt.”  
“It was just a bad dream. Not everything is your fault.”  
“I ken that well enough lass,”  
Jamie said dryly  
“But I want ye to ken it doesna sit lightly wi' me and I am sorry. Truly.”  
“Then you're forgiven.”  
Claire kissed him gently, her tongue gently touching his lips in question and he answered her carefully, his hand settling on her waist, head bowed to her.  
“I love ye, Sorcha.”  
“Show me.”  
Claire drew him back towards the desk and Jamie let himself be led and accepted her forgiveness and love as he always had and always would, by offering his heart and his body to her service.


	5. What's a little mess between friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick one shot as the update yesterday was a little heavy going! :-)  
> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment or leave kudos, you guys are ace!  
> Love,  
> Han

Claire smiled to herself as she listened to Robbie murmuring encouragements to his stuffed doll. He had found it under Janet’s bed when hiding from bath time one evening and since then had become completely attached. Jamie had been less than impressed with his son being so besotted with a lassie’s wee doll but Claire had refused to allow him to take it away. She saw no harm in Robbie having the toy and Jamie had grudgingly relented on the condition that Claire let him teach Brianna how to handle a dirk – something Claire had felt was not necessary for an eleven year old girl to learn.  
Robbie had been delivered to Claire’s surgery by Bree on her way to a Gaelic lesson with Jamie and he seemed to feel quite at home amongst the herbs and different bottles and quite content when Claire gave him one of her spoons and a little vial of sugar water to play doctor with.  
“It’s OK, make you bedder.”  
Robbie said, softly pushing the spoon against the dolls stitched smile. Claire put down her pestle and went to crouch beside him.  
“Oh dear! Is Cat not well?”  
She asked, looking for any visible tears or new stains on the doll  
“She has a tummy ache.”  
Robbie looked up at his mother, golden eyes large with worry and bobbed his head vigorously.  
“Oh! That’s no good is it?”  
Claire rubbed her fingers in small circles over the dolls tummy and noticed Robbie doing the same thing on his own stomach, mimicking her touch.  
“Do you have a tummy ache too, baby?”  
She asked, pressing her hand to his forehead, he was warm but not alarmingly so.  
“No.”  
Robbie shook his head and clutched Cat to his chest. Claire raised an eyebrow at him, she could see the faint red stains of strawberry juice around his lips and she folded her arms.  
“Robbie, have you been helping yourself to strawberries again?”  
Robbie pressed his lips together and hunched his shoulders, mouth curling into a guilty grin which he quickly smothered with his hands. His nails, short and square like his fathers, were ringed with red too, suggesting that the venture had been a grab and run rather than old Mrs Crook slipping him treats as usual.  
“Cat likes stor-bees.”  
He offered, holding the doll out to Claire.  
“Mmmm.”  
Claire smiled and lifted him up, groaning slightly at the solid weight of her son. He was already big for his age and she was sure that like Bree and Jamie he was going to be extremely tall.  
“You’re getting so heavy!”  
She smiled and Robbie nodded, resting his head lightly on her shoulder.  
“Big boy.”  
“That you are.”  
Claire sat him on her work bench and carefully wiped away most of the sticky redness from his face and hands with a damp cloth.  
“Yuk Mama! YUK!”  
Robbie squirmed away from her, eyes creasing into accusing slits as Claire finished with the cloth and set about trying to tidy his hair, a task that neither of them relished.  
“Well if you will run around like a wild thing…”  
Claire muttered; trying to bind his hair with the ribbon Bree had selected for him that morning.  
“Ah ye’re fighting a losing battle there Sassenach.”  
Claire turned to her husband and found him grinning at her from the doorway; his own hair was in almost as much disarray as Robbie’s suggesting that Brianna’s Gaelic lesson had been more trying than usual.  
“You are welcome to try and do better.”  
Claire handed the length of ribbon to Jamie as he came forward to stand in front of his son.  
“Weel, I dinna have any doubt that the Fraser men can handle a wee bit o’ ribbon!”  
Robbie had been frantically holding his arms out to Jamie but seeing his father take the offending ribbon from his mother; he changed his mind and clung to Claire as if his life depended on it.  
Jamie lifted him out of Claire’s arms and threw him up in the air, catching him deftly under the arm pits and hoisting the little lad over his head. Robbie squealed with delight and kicked his legs appreciatively.  
“Um… Jamie don’t…”  
Claire began as Jamie peered at her beneath Robbie’s legs  
“Eh? What’s amiss Sassenach? I won’t drop him! Will I, mo bhalaich donn?”  
Jamie chuckled, throwing Robbie and catching him again.  
“No, it’s not … Oh!”  
Claire stopped speaking and put her hands over her mouth, stifling a slightly manic laugh as a cascade of half-digested strawberries exited Robbie. Most of it went down Jamie’s back but a fair amount landed on his head, sliding down to seep into the collar of his shirt. Jamie made a sound which fell somewhere between and shriek and a retch and clutched Robbie to his chest as though protecting the boy from some unknown assailant, blue eyes wide and disbelieving as he looked between Robbie and Claire. A small piece of strawberry leaf dripped from his right earlobe and Claire felt her shoulders beginning to tremble with the effort of suppressing her laughter.  
“Bedder now.”  
Robbie smiled and unceremoniously wiped his mouth on the front of Jamie’s shirt. Claire hurried forward and scooped the boy out of Jamie’s arms, burying her face in his dark hair.  
“I tried to warn you but you interrupted me.”  
“Aye, weel next time I gi’ ye full permission to shut me up.”  
Jamie’s own lip quirked but he was clearly not ready to laugh about his misfortune yet and Claire could see a faint blush beginning to creep up his throat as the shock wore off and he became more aware of her laughing at him.  
“Robbie seems to feel better”  
“Aye as well the wee gomerel might! I ha’ half a field o’ strawberries down my back!”  
“And on your head.”  
Claire bit the inside of her cheeks willing herself to silence as Jamie drew a very deep breath through his nose.  
“Who in God’s name fed him that many?”  
“I think he saw an opportunity and took it.”  
Claire shrugged and Jamie rolled his eyes. Robbie had been quiet up until this point, clearly wondering whether or not he was in trouble, but as no obvious repercussions were headed his way, he decided to voice his opinion on the situation.  
“Messy.”  
He declared eyeing his father with some distaste. The look on the little boy’s face was too much for Claire and she began laughing in earnest, unable to help herself. Jamie stood for a moment watching them both with a gimlet eye before turning on his heel and stalking off in search of a wash and a clean shirt.  
*  
Claire and Robbie followed the sound of water splashing and found Jamie outside the kitchen door, strawberry splattered shirt on the ground in a crumpled heap as he leant over and ladled water over his head. Claire let Robbie wander into the courtyard to try and befriend the chickens whilst she stopped beside Jamie and laid a gentle hand on her husband’s back.  
“I’m sorry for laughing at you.”  
She murmured, pressing several kisses across the broad expanse of his back.  
“I brought soap?”  
Jamie wordlessly held out his hand but Claire could see the small smile on his lips through the lengths of his wet hair.  
“Let me…”  
Claire lathered up a little of the soap between her fingers, the smell of citrus blossoming between them as she sank her fingers into the lengths of Jamie’s hair. She heard him groan in pleasure and dug her thumbs into the base of his skull, working in small circles, massaging her way up his scalp and back down.  
“Ye may laugh at me every day o’ my life if this is how ye make it up to me.”  
Jamie growled softly, his hand reaching back to take a firm grip on Claire’s hip.  
“Mmm. I might.”  
Claire bent down to ladle water over Jamie’s hair but he took it from her hand  
“Watch ye skirts lass.”  
He said and plunged his head into the tub of water, sending a torrent of suds cascading over the side.  
“MUD!”  
Robbie dashed forward, eager to splash in the puddle formed but Jamie caught him around the middle and hoisted him up before he could reach it.  
“No’ for ye. Ye’ve caused enough laundry for one day!”  
Jamie righted the boy and sent him towards Claire with a gentle pat on the bum.  
“Leave the wean wi’ Jenny for a while and help me dry off?”  
Jamie asked softly and Claire nodded, her heart already beginning to flutter at the thought of retiring to their bedroom for the afternoon.  
Before she could finish her thought though, Ian snr. rode into the courtyard and gestured to Jamie  
“Sorry to bother ye a charaid but the lads canna settle Blain and Aoileann is getting a wee bit skittish, could ye help?”  
Ian looked guiltily between Jamie and Claire, aware that he had most likely interrupted something that they would sooner he not have, but it was too late to now.  
“Dinna fash, man. I’ll follow ye back.”  
Jamie smiled apologetically at Claire and hastily kissed Robbie’s head before grabbing a clean shirt from the line and hurrying after Ian.  
“LATER!”  
Claire called and Jamie waved back at her  
“Nothin’ could stop me Sassenach!”


	6. In darkness we dwell.

“Jamie?”  
Claire nudged her husband in the ribs and smiled as he woke with a snort and turned to her  
“The bairns?”  
His voice was thick with sleep and Claire felt a pang of guilt over waking him.  
“They're fine, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ...”  
Jamie's hand came through the darkness to settle on her shoulder  
“Ye're cold lass, come here.”  
He rolled onto his back and drew her to him, allowing Claire to settle against his chest with a contented sigh. His hand floated in front of her face, ghostly white in the darkened room, as he gently smoothed her hair and placed a kiss on her crown.  
Claire trailed her fingers through the curly red hair on his chest, thicker now than when he was a young man, and felt her pulse quicken as the strands rasped against her palm, the skin of his chest firm and warm against hers.  
“Hmm?”  
“I didn't say anything.”  
“Aye, ye said my name.”  
Claire propped her chin on his pectoral muscle, the clinical term giving her a slight thrill, and looked into the darkness at the space where she knew his face would be. She couldn't see him in the darkness but something stronger than vision and older than memory projected the image of him to her, just as it had throughout their years of separation.  
“I canna see ye at all Sassenach, and yet I ken the exact expression on your face. How is that possible?”  
Jamie's fingers brushed her cheek, stroking against the curve of her smile.  
“I was just thinking the same thing.”  
“Aye, that happens between us a fair bit doesn't it?”  
“Mmm.”  
Claire kissed his throat, pulling herself forward until she was laying almost directly on top of him. His hands moved to cup her bottom, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers gently, a happy growl rumbling at the back of his throat.  
“Jamie?”  
“Yes mo ghraidh?”  
“I need you.”  
“So I gathered.”  
He smiled, kissing along the length of Claire's collar bone, his tongue finding the wee spot that he knew made her squeak and gently lapping at it.  
“Well I … Oh! Mmm... I do mean in this way but also ...”  
“Also?”  
Jamie prompted, rolling Claire onto her back and coming over her, covering her body with his as he bent his head to her breast.  
“Also … I need you in a deeper … Oh God! Hang on!”  
Claire pulled his head up and kissed him thoroughly before releasing her hold on his ears  
“I just wanted to tell you that I absolutely bloody adore you James Fraser. I adore you and I need you more than I can say.”  
She let the words pour out of her before he had a chance to resume his minstrations to her body and distract her further. There was a heavy silence following her words, the air thick and hot between them.  
“Oh mo Sorcha.”  
Jamie whispered finally and if it wasn't for the thin film of moisture his kiss left on her bottom lip, Claire would have sworn she imagined it, so softly did he lower himself to her.   
“I … I don't always know how to say it to you...”  
“Not in words no, but Claire, ye show ye love for our family every single day. I never doubt it.”  
Jamie inched her shift up and Claire parted her thighs beneath him  
“But I wanted to say it to you tonight.”  
She whispered back, her breath catching on the last syllable as he entered her, slowly, his hips pressing against hers as she arched her back.  
“I ken lass and I appreciate it, truly.”  
Claire grinned as his voice took a slightly breathy tone and she bucked rhythmically beneath him, drawing him further into her and delighting in his gasps.  
“Sit up Jamie.”  
She whispered, and mounted his lap when he obliged her, wrapping her hands in his hair and arching her back. She had never fully appreciated the darkness of the Lairds room at Lallybroch, but now she saw it, felt it, in all it's splendour. The high ceiling above her, it's beams swallowing all noise and the solid floor beneath them, supporting their weight as they moved in a perfect orb of darkness; like a soap bubble devoid of light, drifting … drifting ... higher and higher, it's surface quivering with the effort of staying afloat until it could stand no more and then … Pop!  
Jamie pressed his face to her chest, breathing ragged as she stroked his back.  
“My God, Sassenach! That was …”  
“Mmmm.”  
Claire smiled into his hair, kissing the shell of his ear, running the edges of her teeth delicately against his skin until he shivered.  
“Get under the quilt mo nighean donn, let me warm ye.”  
Jamie's voice was heavy with fatigue, his lust spent and Claire's own eyes felt ready to droop.   
“Robbie will be awake in a couple of hours.”  
She said ruefully and Jamie smiled as he pulled the blanket up over their shoulders, settling himself against his wife.   
“Aye, and I'll see to him.”  
“My hero!”  
She breathed theatrically and startled as Jamie's palm connected with the cool skin of her bottom gently.  
“Aye, I am, dinna forget it!”  
Claire could hear the smile in his voice and nodded  
“I never could.”


	7. Calm within a storm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt I had a while back about a storm at Lallybroch. Kinda all the feels here for J and B.

The storm rolled in in the early hours of the morning, lightening illuminating the dark sky and thunder seemingly reverberating from the very founding rocks of the valley. The noise was horrendous outside but most of the residents of Lallybroch remained undisturbed in their beds. For Bree however, waking to the sound of thunder was as terrifying as looking over an abyss and feeling your feet slipping forwards.  
Her stomach churned and her heart fluttered in her chest like a bird, beating its wings furiously against the frame of a cage. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to count her breaths between the booming echoes. One … two … thr… As the air split above the house with a roar, Bree abandoned the counting and threw the blanket over her head, body trembling from head to toe. The window was right above her bed and tree branches lashed against it mercilessly.  
Gathering her courage she slipped out of the bed, the soft grey blanket Aunt Jenny had knitted her wrapped around her shoulders, and stealthily made her way to the bedroom door. She could have crept in with Kitty but the older girl could sometimes be a little short tempered, like Aunt Jenny and Bree didn’t want to risk waking her.  
She knew she was not allowed to seek shelter in her parents bed, Da had made that very clear the last time Lallybroch had been caught in a storm. He had woken as she slipped into the bed but hadn’t said a word when Mama had untangled herself from him and wordlessly wrapped her arms around Bree; however the next morning he had gently explained that at ten she was far too old to be coming into her parent’s bed at night. Well, she was eleven now and if it wasn’t OK when she was ten it definitely wouldn’t be OK now.   
She made her way down the corridor uncertain of who to turn to. She could go to Ian but there was a good chance that he would tease her about it in the morning and her pride would not allow for that. Bree hunched her shoulders as lightening illuminated the hallway and gripped the blanket tighter around her.  
Fergus! She hurried down the stairs the small bedroom which Fergus had to himself and nudged the door gently. It refused to budge so she put her shoulder against it and heaved. Nothing. Soft voices, thick with sleep drifted from behind the clearly blocked door and Bree realised that Fergus was not sleeping alone tonight. Face flaming she quickly hurried back upstairs, resigned to going back to her own bed. She knew the storm couldn’t actually hurt her and that she was being silly but all the same the thought of getting back into bed and waiting it out seemed too awful to manage and if she was being honest with herself she would admit that she just really wanted her Mama.   
She hovered between her room and the Laird’s chambers in an agony of indecision. A huge roll of thunder crashed above the house and Bree yelped, dropping into a crouch and wrapping the blanket around her head. Her breath burst forth in a series of sobs and she desperately tried to blink back her tears.   
“Bree?”  
She felt the blanket being lifted and in the white glow of lightning flashes she saw her father peering at her, he looked like a beardless Zeus; with a white sheet clasped around his waist, illuminated in the light of a storm. His expression was somewhere between confusion and annoyance and Bree hunched further into herself.  
“What are ye doin’ a leanann? Are ye ill?”  
Bree tried to summon her words but they, along with her courage, seemed to have been swept away by the storm and she shook her head weakly.  
“I’m sorry Da.”  
She managed finally and understanding lighted Jamie’s face.   
“The weather is it?”  
Bree nodded and Jamie made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat.  
“Ah poor lassie. Come, I’ll get ye settled into bed.”  
"Can't I ..."  
Bree began but a look at her father's face told her that she could not.   
Jamie half lifted Bree into a standing position and guided her back towards her room. She dragged her heels a bit but his hand on her back was firm and before she knew it he had ushered her into the little room she shared with her cousin.   
“There now, get into bed and I’ll tuck ye in.”  
Bree looked up at her Da and the gentle, encouraging smile on his face made her want to pitch into his arms and refuse to let him leave until the sun was shining again.   
“It’s OK Da, I can do it.”  
Jamie nodded, stooped and kissed her forehead. Bree wrapped her arms about his middle and hugged him tightly with a small noise of alarm as the rain continued to beat down and the tree once again beat her window.  
“Alright then…”  
Jamie straightened and carefully stepped back from her, clutching the sheet tightly for modesty and the fear of scandalising his young daughter. He watched Bree get into bed and felt a pang of guilt as she flinched away from the window and buried her face in the pillow.   
Jamie left her door ajar to let a little more light in and made his way back to his room, listening intently. Although he could not hear anything over the howling wind, Jamie had a gut-wrenching feeling that his daughter was probably crying.   
He knew full well that Bree had been hovering outside their room making up her mind whether or not to seek out Claire. It had been nearly a year since she had done so but Claire had told him it was not uncommon when the weather was truly bad for Bree to slip in with her. It wasn’t that Jamie minded sharing his bed, nor that he disliked offering the bairns comfort, far from it, but his father would never have allowed him to sleep in with his parents past the age of maybe four. It just wouldn’t have been tolerated, and Jamie felt like there was a reason for that. It wasn’t proper! No, Brian Fraser would have given him something to really fash about for creeping around the house. Jamie hadn't been rough with Bree, he had been gentle with her and felt it was right to be so. Poor wee thing was frightened, not trying to cause trouble.  
Jamie dropped the sheet from his waist as he entered his bedroom and padded softly over to the bed, sinking his weight gently onto the mattress so as not to wake Claire. He lay in the darkness, still half-listening for Brianna and half-listening to the wind and rain overhead.  
Aye, it was only a storm, a bit louder than average perhaps but there were a good many of them in Scotland at this time of year and it would not do the lass any good to be mollycoddled from them. Also she was eleven years old and on the cusp of becoming a woman! For all she was still a lassie now it wouldn’t be long and life was hard! It would do her no good to be treated too softly.   
Jamie drummed the fingers of his left hand on his stomach and pursed his lips. Guilt was nagging at him and he wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t done anything wrong! A particularly violent clap of thunder burst somewhere in the distance and he sat up with a jolt.   
“Jamie?”  
Claire mumbled out of the cloud of her hair, reaching an arm clumsily across the bed towards him. Jamie kissed her wrist and sighed, resigned.   
“Are ye decent Sassenach?”  
He asked, swinging his legs out of bed. Claire plucked at her shift in illustration before sinking back into sleep.   
“Good.”  
Jamie tugged his breeks on and laced them up, heading for the door. Bree was buried under a pile of clothes as well as quilts when he entered the room, though her head poked out at the sound of his footsteps.  
“Da?”  
“Aye, come on, quickly before I change my mind.”  
Jamie sternly jerked his head toward the hall and Bree scrambled out of bed, a grateful smile on her face. Jamie followed her along the corridor and then held the blanket aside as Bree scooted over to her mother, settling herself in the crook of Claire’s arm.  
"Not a peep now, aye?"  
"Aye Da."  
Bree whispered earnestly. The tension was already easing from her face and Jamie nodded to himself, satisfied.  
He settled on his back on the edge of the mattress, noting to himself that Bree had grown considerably in the course of the year and closed his eyes, fingers lacing across his belly.  
He felt a small hand slip into his and cracked one eyelid open to see two blue eyes watching him.  
“Thank you Da.”  
Bree whispered and Jamie’s lip quirked in a smile, pressing her hand lightly.  
“Ye’re welcome Bree. Sleep well.”  
“You too Da.”  
Jamie nodded and sighed, feeling certain that he would.


	8. Shot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick one shot of Bree and Jamie hunting.

Brianna squatted beside her father, gun slung over her back and body quivering with alertness. The deer was bleeding but not badly wounded and they had been tracking her for just over an hour since Jamie’s first shot.   
“D’ye see her there?”  
Jamie’s voice was low and soft in Bree’s ear and she nodded silently, the deer was almost hidden behind a sprawling willow, her flanks dusted with rain. Bree blinked water out of her eyes and slowly reached round for her gun, she didn’t want to make any sudden movements and risk spooking the poor creature into another dash.  
“Ye canna make the shot from here.”  
Jamie murmured and Bree cocked a ruddy eyebrow at him, she was a fine shot and he knew it. She judged her distances well and whilst she couldn’t best wee Ian nor Jamie with bow and arrow, she often outshone both her father and cousin with a gun.   
“Aye, I can.”  
She said and Jamie gave her a long look down the bridge of his nose. She was as stubborn as him and as likely to let her mouth run her into trouble and as blue eyes locked, Bree seemed to think the same thing, for the obstinate set of her jaw relaxed into a radiant smile and she lowered her eyes deferentially   
“If you dinna think it wise Da, I’ll bide.”  
Jamie snorted and rolled his eyes. Jenny had commented on Brianna’s latest tactic for wrapping her father around her wee finger by allowing a soft Scottish lilt to creep into her speech when needed and Claire had agreed that Bree’s accent did seem to fluctuate but if Jamie was completely honest with himself, he didn’t much care.  
Brianna made his heart soar with joy in all ways, even when she was a wee fiend he found himself bowled over with pride in her fierceness and cunning and on the occasions he found himself compelled to scold her, he did so with a strange mix of paternal ire and amusement that he was never quite sure how to balance and had rather given up trying.  
“At least edge round a wee bit, gi’ yeself a wider target. It’s no’ fair to risk the animal further sufferin’ to plump up ye pride.”  
Bree nodded and Jamie was pleased to see a more thoughtful look flit across her face. Together they edged through the undergrowth until the creature was more or less side on. The distance was still greater than Jamie thought entirely prudent but at least there was a better chance now. His gun was primed and ready should Brianna miss but looking at her, he doubted she would. The gun snagged slightly on a twig as she drew it forward and she muttered a word that Jamie pretended not to hear. He glanced down at her and his breath caught in his throat. Claire! For the space of two heartbeats, Bree looked exactly like Claire. Her damp hair was escaping from her cap in a riot of wayward curls and her mouth was set in a grim line of irritation as she struggled with the weapon, her eyes flashing. Jamie blinked and the moment ended, Bree freed the gun and her features settled into their usual Fraser formation but the memory would be one that Jamie carried with him always. He studied his daughters profile, the slanted blue eyes, narrowed in concentration and her nose (thankfully not as long as his!) but straight as a knife-edge, three small freckles over her left cheek bone, just like Claire, so faint they could only be seen if one knew where to look…   
*Mo maise, mo Sorcha ruaidh*   
The crack of the gun startled Jamie out of his reverie and he whipped his head round in time to see the deer stagger before sinking to its knees and toppling sideways.  
Brianna let out a small, pleased breath and turned to Jamie triumphantly. He gawped at her for a moment and then gave his daughter a smile that lit his face all the way to his eyes.  
“Well done lassie!”  
Bree felt the tips of her ears glow with pleasure at the praise, not that her father was ever reticent in his praise of her but she still enjoyed hearing it and it had been a very good shot.  
“Ye Uncle Ian will ne’er believe me when I tell him the distance and such a clean shot…”  
Jamie shook his head, still grinning and laid a hand on Bree’s shoulder  
“Truly remarkable Bree.”  
Together they trussed and carried the carcass back to Thunder, who tossed his head at the smell of blood but remained steady as Jamie draped the deer across its back. Bree gentled him, making soothing noises and gentle motions just as Jamie had taught her until Jamie gave her the nod to lead onwards.  
Claire and Robbie were hanging out fresh laundry to dry, Claire hanging whilst Robbie handed her pegs from a handful clutched in his smock, but at the sight of Bree and his father he dropped them with an excited squeal and charged forward  
“BWEEEEEEE!!!!!!”  
“No! Robbie I’m all covered in yuk!”  
Bree called out but heedless of her warning, Robbie wrapped himself around her middle, hugging her tightly.  
“Where been?”  
He asked, pulling back to look up at her accusingly. Jamie and Bree had snuck out whilst Claire distracted Robbie with breakfast, it was the only way to ensure the smallest Fraser would not have a total meltdown over being left behind.  
“Catching your supper!”  
Jamie grinned stooping and picking his son up, throwing him into the air and catching him deftly under the armpits.  
“Supper!”  
Robbie’s face lit up at the mention of food, truly his father’s son, and squirmed to see what Jamie had brought home.  
“Deer, mmmm!”  
Jamie smacked his lips together theatrically and Robbie copied, giggling.  
“I like fish.”  
He prompted, poking Jamie gently in the cheeks until he obligingly made a fish face for Robbie to squish, blowing out air through the boys curls.  
Jamie set him down, ignoring the small protest and proudly wrapped an arm around Brianna’s shoulders, leading her over to Claire  
“Our daughter is probably the best shot in Scotland, Sassenach!”  
He declared happily   
“Oh?”  
“Aye, tell ye Mam about the shot Bree.”  
Jamie encouraged but Brianna looked demure and shook her head  
“It wasn’t THAT good Da!”  
Jamie’s eye flew open aghast  
“No’ that good? It was incredible …”  
Jamie threw his arms wide and began to tell Claire the tale in all it’s glory, occasionally watching Bree out of the corner of his eye and delighting in how pleased and proud she looked and happy to be the one to make her feel so as she did with him everyday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I have FINALLY sorted out a Tumblr account for myself and I am now over there as RedStarFiction too. At the moment there isn't anything on my blog but I will start copying my catalogue here across and uploading new works to both so if you're on Tumblr please do look me up and give me a follow and I will gladly follow back! :) Thanks,  
> H


	9. Hi-Ho...

“He’s more like ye in temperament isn’t he?”  
Jenny nodded to Robbie, sat on the floor beside his uncle, carefully holding the wooden leg in place whilst Ian adjusted the straps and the padding Claire had added.   
Claire nodded, a little glow of pleasure radiating from her smile. Neither woman paused in kneading the dough and like so many of their conversations, this one continued to the comfortable rhythm of their work.  
“I think so. Brianna was far more prone to temper tantrums than Robbie is and from the age of two I had to basically give up on convincing her to do something she didn’t want to …”  
Claire trailed off, sighing at the memory of her stubborn little girl, stuffed into a dress she didn’t want to wear for one of Frank’s parties, glowering at her from under a thick fringe of copper hair.  
“Aye, weel that is lassie’s for ye, my Mam used to say I had such a set o’ lungs on me twas a wonder I didna take up the trumpet and earn a fortune.”  
Jenny chuckled   
“I meant more the way he gentles people, he is a kindly wee soul.”  
“He is, I hope …”  
Claire paused and bit her lip  
“I hope I haven’t babied him too much. He doesn’t much care for rough and tumble …”  
“Dinna fash yeself Sister. Yon wee lad will be traipsing mud through the house and wrestling wi’ his cousins and Da soon enough. It’s a blessin’ to ha’ a gentle wee bairn.”  
Jenny grinned at her nephew, who returned her smile and waved quickly before turning his attention back to his task.  
“I’ve been meaning to thank you and Ian, for all the help you have been with him …”  
Jenny made a Scottish noise at the back of her throat and waved Claire’s words away  
“Dinna be daft! Ye set my Ian’s broken arm and made the tonic for Maggie when she was struggling wi’ her courses. I didna feel the need to seek ye out and thank ye! We’re family Claire.”  
Claire reached across and squeezed Jenny’s hand gently. It had been a hard-won bond to forge between the two women, so much had passed and the revelation of Claire’s time travel had left Jenny wary of her for a while. At first Claire felt that each time she left to tend to a tenant, Jenny watched her leave as though she meant to disappear for another twenty years and wanted to be sure of her face before she left. After Robbie was born things between them improved greatly but it had only been in the last year that Jenny had allowed herself to completely soften.  
“All the same, I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”  
“Mam?”  
“Yes sweetheart?”  
Claire turned her attention to Robbie who had wandered over.  
“Can I have a d-ink?”  
“P…P…”  
Claire prompted, eyebrows raised  
“Pweeze!”  
Robbie added, rocking up onto the balls of his feet, hands clasped behind his back.  
“You may.”  
As his mother fetched him some water, Robbie clambered up onto one of the chairs and peered across the table top.   
“Wassat?”  
“Dough, it’ll be bread soon enough though.”  
Jenny smiled   
“Me do?”  
“Ye wish to try ye hand at baking,hmm?”  
Jenny broke off a small piece and handed it to him  
“Go ahead and pat it out, then ye knead it, like this …”  
Jenny slowly rolled her palms across the dough and Robbie copied, small brow furrowed in concentration. Claire placed a small beaker of water beside him and stepped back, happily watching her son persevere with his task.  
“Like dis?”  
He looked up at his aunt, seeking her nod of approval and grinned happily upon receiving it.  
“Ye want to keep folding it and pushing it out too.”  
She instructed. The little lad had the promise of his father’s strong bones and height and there was a fair amount of red shot through his dark curls. Jenny had been truly floored by just how similar to Jamie Brianna was, but it was a pleasure to see so much of Claire about their second child. He had her extraordinary eyes and that wild hair, her smile too, or Jenny thought it may be Claire’s the wee dimples in his cheeks were no doubt from his mother. His nose was beginning to take Jamie’s shape though, and his eyes were definitely the Fraser cat eyes … Jenny smiled to herself, the wean had Jamie’s ears too. They stuck out ever so slightly and were a wee bit pointed at the tip.   
“Ye’ll be a wee heartbreaker nay doubt.”  
“Wassat?”  
Robbie looked up curiously and Jenny bent forward placing a kiss on the soft fuzz of curls   
“A fine handsome man.”  
Robbie nodded in understanding; several ladies had told him he was handsome, whatever that meant! But he understood it was no bad thing and quite happily resumed patting the dough.   
“Dinna be getting’ the lad doin’ women’s work!”  
Ian teased coming to stand beside Robbie. He picked up the clammy piece of dough, raising his eyebrows at the scowl his interference earned him.   
“Mine.”  
Robbie said flatly, holding out his hands.   
“Ye like helpin’ then? ”  
Ian smiled  
“MINE PWEEZE”  
Robbie repeated, a little louder this time, his eyes narrowing as his little chest puffed out.  
Jenny and Claire both smothered laughs with the back of their hands and Ian presented the dough back to Robbie with a solemn nod  
“Aye, sorry laddie.”  
Robbie clutched the dough to his chest, still eyeing Ian,  
“Dinna snatch.”  
He admonished his uncle, the indignation of having his work manhandled still present but not requiring tears. Robbie switched his earnest gaze to his mother as she made a noise suspiciously like a giggle.  
“Ye are right, it’s rude to snatch and I must ask ye pardon.”  
Ian replied, his lower lip quivering fiercely against the urge to laugh. Having received a fairly decent apology Robbie nodded and put the little blob on the table top before opening his arms to his uncle just as Mam and Da did to him after a scolding.  
“Hug?”  
He favoured his uncle with a smile, and then shrieked with delight as Ian plucked him up, hoisting him into the air with an exaggerated grunt.  
“What are ye doin’ wi’ my son?”  
Jamie nudged the door to the kitchen open arms full of wood for the stove  
“Bein’ taught a lesson in manners.”  
Ian laughed and handed his squirming nephew to Claire, stepping toward Jamie to help with the wood  
“Oh?”  
“I snatched his dough.”  
Ian said gravely and Jamie raised both his eyebrows, a small smile on his lips  
“We’ve been learning about snatching, haven’t we Raibeirt?”  
Robbie nodded and held out his arms to Jamie with an impatient grunt  
“Up! Up!”  
“Ye’re already up, ye wee pest!”  
Jamie laughed but obligingly lifted the lad and settled him on his shoulders, stooping to kiss Claire and run a hand discreetly down her back, settling on her bottom for a moment before he straightened. Their eyes met and a series of little communications flitted between them  
*You need me?*  
*Aye, I thought ye were here alone.*  
*Sorry. Later?*  
*Most definitely later!*  
“Ow!”  
Jamie patted Robbie’s thigh firmly   
“Dinna pull my hair or I willna let ye sit up there.”  
Claire impulsively reached up to rub the patch on her son’s breeks that Jamie had tapped, despite knowing that the child had barely felt it.  
“Be kind.”  
She murmured and two sets of slanted eyes, one blue the other amber, turned on her with identical looks of gentle exasperation.  
“Aye.”  
Father and son said in unison, before laughing.  
“Where’s Bree?”  
Claire asked and Jamie frowned  
“Is she no’ in the house?”  
“No I don’t think so…”  
“I saw her heading off o’er the field wi’ Ian half an hour or so ago.”  
Ian snr offered and Jamie chest puffed out in a similar way to Robbie’s earlier.  
“I asked her to come straight home and help wi’ lunch.”  
“Aye, weel she did help me chop the apples and slice the loaves … then she left.”  
Jenny chuckled at the look on her brother’s face  
“Ye have to be up earlier than the rooster to get one o’er on a Fraser bairn!”  
“Aye so I am learning!”  
Jamie grimaced. After a moment his face softened and he lifted Robbie down to stand  
“Well, seeing as my eldest has deserted me, it is up to ye to help ye father Raibeart!”  
Robbie looked at him in confusion and Jamie grinned  
“Ye get to see the horsies!”  
“HORSIE!”   
Robbie clapped his hands gleefully and made a dash for the door, curls bouncing.   
“Be careful!”  
Claire called before being cut off by her husband’s lips on her own  
“We always are Sassenach!”  
Jamie blinked solemnly at her, his attempt at a wink, and hurried after their son, who was impatiently yelling the word ‘Da!’ in the courtyard, heedless of the startled chickens flapping around him.   
*  
Robbie had first been allowed in the stables to help Jamie two weeks before and since then it was his favourite place to be. He tended to follow his Da as far and as frequently as his mother would allow him, which was nowhere near far or frequently enough for Robbie’s liking.  
“Hello!”  
He whispered as Jamie held the door open for him, stepping into the softly lit stables with exaggerated care. He visited each stall in turn, whispering “Hello!” to each of the horses and a couple of stalls which were simply empty.  
“Where’s P’ato?”  
He frowned turning to his father. Plato was currently Robbie’s favourite, having stolen the little lad’s piece of apple by gently nosing his way over Robbie’s shoulder and taking it with a satisfied snort.   
“He’s out workin’ wi’ ye cousin Jamie.”  
“Not here?”  
Robbie’s bottom lip began to quiver and Jamie quickly sought out a distraction.   
“Can ye help me wi’ the sweepin’ then, Bhalaich?”  
He held out the half-size broom that Robbie could use and his son brightened immediately. Father and son spent a happy ten minutes together sweeping out each stool, Robbie occasionally dropping his broom to inspect a disturbed spider or woodlouse, singing cheerfully to himself.  
“Frere Jacker, Frere Jacker! Dom-ay voo? Dom-ay voo?...”  
Jamie hummed tunelessly along, half paying attention to the song and half lost in his own thoughts, wondering where Bree and Ian had absconded to. Most likely to go swimming, it was a hot day and a dip in the millpond did seem like a fairly pleasant way to spend the mid-morning. Still, both bairns knew they werena to go there so he hoped that they’d have the sense to dry off on the grass rather than dampen their clothes … although on reflection perhaps he should be more concerned with their disobedience if that was where they had gone, rather than hoping they wouldna get caught … he was so busy wondering if he was being a hopeless excuse for a father that it took him a moment to realised that the stable had fallen silent.   
“Robbie?”   
Jamie poked his head out of the stall he was in and listened. If the laddie was playing ‘hide and go seek’ there should surely be some giggling or some tell-tale sign, there always was! Jamie leant the broom against the wall and called his son again.   
“Where are ye, mo duinne mac? If ye’re eating ants again ye will ha’ to raise yeself for ye Mam will surely kill me…”  
Jamie stopped at the stable door, his breath caught in his throat as a smile slowly spread across his face. Robbie was crouched beside Young Jos, the grandson of old Jos, Jamie’s first dog, murmuring endearments to the animal and stroking his head reverently.  
“Ye’re a good doggie, ye are.”  
Robbie grinned, his voice completely consumed with adoration for the old dog beside him. Jamie bit his lip and made a mental note to visit the church and pay proper respects on the Sabbath for being given the luck to witness this moment.   
He had seen bairns with dogs and the like before but there was something so touching about seeing his son pay such close attention and offer such respect to the animal that it warmed Jamie to the core of his soul. He had a similar feeling watching his Willie with the horses at Helwater, the lads had a similar colouring too, although William’s eyes were blue … Jamie realised he was on dangerous ground and restored his full attention to the little boy in front of him. He crossed the yard and settled himself on the other side of Young Jos, rubbing the old dog’s snout fondly.  
“I love Jos.”  
Robbie nodded to himself and Jamie smiled, glancing up as Robbie placed a small hand on top of Jamie’s own.  
“And I love you.”  
Jamie froze and pressed his lips together for a moment. It was the first time Robbie had told him that without a gentle prompt from Claire, whom he had been saying it to for weeks (Jamie acknowledged the faint twinge of jealousy he felt and inwardly laughed at himself). He cleared his throat and nodded  
“I love ye too Raibeart, truly.”  
Robbie stood up and dusted his hands off on his smock  
“Need to pee.”  
Jamie grinned and stood with him, holding out his hand.  
“Come on then, I’ll take ye and then it’s back to work.”  
Robbie nodded happily and took his father’s hand, towing him toward the privy as he began his song again  
“Frere Jacker….”


	10. In arms we rest.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff piece because it's Thursday and I'm really tired and this came to me and made me smile. As ever thank you so much for reading and taking the time to comment/kudos my work.

“I dinna doubt ye can reach it a bhalaich, but I would prefer it if ye didna.”  
Jamie spoke mildly as he eyed his son over the top of his book and Robbie guiltily stepped back from trying to reach his father’s dirk, laid on the side after slitting envelopes that arrived at Lallybroch that morning with news from various places and people.  
“Jus’ lookin’.”  
Robbie sulked and settled himself in front of the fire with his wooden blocks. A quick glance at his Da, who was once again absorbed in his reading and he chucked one of the smaller blocks into the flames and grinned as it hissed and crackled the painted surface to black.   
Jamie lowered the book onto his knee and sighed.  
“I didna!”  
Robbie automatically stood and put his hands behind him, concealing the second block he had been planning on sending to a fiery end.  
“Did ye no? If I were to count these,”  
Jamie gestured to the scattered wooden cubes on the floor  
“Would I still find forty-nine? For ye started wi’ fifty – I ken as I painted each one for ye – then ye put one in the fire last week and ye Mam was fair stern wi’ ye about it, no?”  
“Aye Da. Mam got cross.”  
“Aye, so. Should I count these?”  
“No.”  
Robbie, who could now count to ten so long as he had use of all fingers and thumbs was not sure about how many blocks were on the floor but knowing what he had just done didn’t particularly want his father to check.   
“Burning blocks bad. I didna.”  
He added and beamed at his Da with all the innocence he could muster. Jamie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fibbing was a new development and a skill that Robbie was particularly happy to practice of late. Claire and Jenny assured him it was perfectly natural but Jamie didn’t care for it, thinking it a bad habit for the lad to get into.  
“Aye, it is bad and daft too, for ye enjoy building and if ye burn ye building blocks I dinna ken how ye mean to do it.”  
Robbie frowned. He hadn’t thought of it like that. He chewed his lip for a moment and then a bright smile lit up his face and dropping the block behind his back he took a running jump onto the arm of his father’s chair.  
“Da can make Robbie more!”  
Jamie laughed despite himself and ruffled the little lad’s curly hair affectionately   
“No, Da will not be makin’ ye more if ye ruin the ones ye have.”  
“Pweeze?”  
“P-llll-ease”  
Jamie repeated, rolling the ‘L’ so that Robbie could hear it.  
“Can ye try that? P-l-ease.”  
“P-l-ease.”  
“Good boy! Now put it together: please.”  
“P…Pweeze!”  
Robbie giggled and Jamie rolled his eyes   
“Mmmphm. Well ye gave it a go, we’ll keep trying.”  
“Wassat?”  
Robbie pointed a stubby index finger at the book  
“What is that?”  
Jamie repeated and Robbie nodded, copying when Jamie raised his eyebrows expectantly  
“Wot is tat?”  
“Verra good!”   
Jamie beamed   
“It is a book, ye ken that.”  
“Wot book?”  
“The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle.”  
Robbie gasped delightedly and clambered over the arm of the chair, dumping himself in Jamie’s lap  
“I love ‘venture stories! Read P…”  
He frowned and clenched his hands in a way that made Jamie strain himself not laugh but he held his composure  
“Please!”   
Robbie burst finally and slumped back against his father utterly spent but looking very proud of himself.   
“Weel, I could read ye a wee bit, but that depends if ye will do me the courtesy o’ bein’ honest with me.”  
Jamie glanced down; one eyebrow rose in question as his son’s large, amber cat eyes widened  
“Did ye burn another of ye blocks?”  
Robbie ran a finger down the length of his nose considering before eyeing his father cautiously  
“No smack bum?”  
“No, I promise. I just want ye to be honest.”  
“I did burn blocks.”  
Robbie nodded his head gravely as he made this admission and Jamie matched his solemnity.  
“I am proud o’ ye for tellin’ the truth Raibeart. Ye willna do such a thing with ye toys again will ye?”  
Robbie shook his head and Jamie favoured him with a small indulgent smile  
“Alright then, see to it that ye dinna or I will be cross ken?”  
“Aye, no burn blocks. Pwomise”  
Jamie nodded at this statement  
“I’ll take ye at ye word then.”  
He settled Robbie more comfortably and turned back to page one.   
“Use ye finger to follow along the words if ye can.”  
Jamie encouraged, placing Robbie’s hand onto the paper. He had never taught a child to read and his own mother had taught him using slate and chalk but Claire assured him that this would help Robbie come to recognise words and word sounds.  
“Ready?”  
“Aye Da.”  
Robbie snuggled closer against his father’s chest and listened to the deep rumble of his voice coming from above him, with complete contentment, even though he didn’t understand many of the words. He traced his finger faithfully along the lines and mumbled the words he recognised alongside his father, who paused in his reading to praise him each time he got one right. It was a quiet game, but it was fun and Robbie was more than happy to have his father completely to himself.  
Jamie read until he felt Robbie grow heavy against him and his breathing settle into a deep rhythm and then put the book down on the arm of his chair and leant his own head back against the seat, his arms protectively cradling his wee lad, and gave himself over to sleep leaving the dancing shadows from the fire to their games. Just before he slept he had an image of Claire and Bree working together in the kitchen that morning, heads bowed and laughing at some wee joke shared and his lips curved in a small, happy smile which stayed with him, long into his slumber.


	11. We meet again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see another reunion.

“Good morning!”  
Claire looked up from her gardening startled and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun. A slightly built young man was leaning over the gate peering at her. His accent was distinctly English and there had been no rumours or word of mouth about any English passing through.  
“Good morning. Can I help you?”  
“I am looking for Mr James Fraser. Is this the place a might find him?”  
Claire looked him over assessing his potential threat. He was roughly her height, fine boned and handsome. Possibly a nobleman but definitely a soldier judging from the way he held himself. He was returning her scrutiny, although with much more tact than she was managing, his fine brows knitting together as his brain processed a thought which seemed to strike him as either odd or repulsive or maybe both.  
“Forgive me madam; are you Mrs Fraser by chance?”  
“I am, and now you have me at a disadvantage Sir.”  
Claire inclined her head and the man hastily stepped back from the gate to offer her a gracious bow.  
“Lord John Grey, at your service Mrs Fraser. You may not remember but we …”  
“Have met before. Yes, I do remember. How is your arm?”  
A small, good natured smile touched the corner of his mouth  
“Long since healed, thank you kindly.”  
“I’m so glad.”  
Claire gave him an icy smile and let the silence between them hang. Jamie had told her of Lord John’s involvement with his time in prison and his parole to Helwater as well as his involvement with William Ransom. She knew Jamie held a strange sort of affection for the man but as he had been the man to condemn Jamie to a the third formal flogging of his life and placed him in Helwater as though he were a prized horse which it pleased Lord John to visit once in a while, Claire was less inclined to view him favourably.  
Lord John cleared his throat after a few more seconds and looked up at her from lowered lashes.  
“Is your husband available to speak with me, Mrs Fraser?”  
Claire jerked her head towards the house and dusted her hands off on her apron.  
“He’ll be teaching the children Gaelic at the moment.”  
“May I wait for him indoors?”  
“Of course.”  
Claire nodded and both turned away calling “Robbie!” and “Willie!” at the same time. Claire whipped her head round and stared at Lord John with a mixture of horror and fury.  
“You brought the child?”  
John flushed from neck to scalp, of course Fraser had told his wife about the boy, they seemed to share most things and it had been stupid of him to think that Claire might be ignorant of their situation. He only hoped Jamie had not told her all that passed between them …  
His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a little boy of around 4 years old hurrying towards them. John took in his wide, sweet smile and the slanted set of his eyes and nodded to Claire  
“My belated congratulations are in order. I did not realise Mr Fraser had a child.”  
Claire ignored this delicately barbed comment  
“Yes, though there is something of an age gap between Robert and our daughter, Brianna.”  
John recovered his composure and there was only the briefest flash of surprise in his eyes before he nodded and said “Of course.” turning his gaze back to the child and wishing his own trophy Fraser would appear. He felt instantly repulsed by himself for thinking of Willie in such a way but there was definitely an air of competition between he and the otherworldly Mrs Claire Fraser.  
*A competition she has already won, fool!*  
He thought savagely and flinched but the truth of it calmed his mind and he let out a long breath.  
“Robbie, will you please go and tell your Da that he has a visitor? Lord John and his …”  
Claire arched an eyebrow at John and he answered smiling  
“Step-son.”  
“Lord John and his step-son are here.”  
Robbie eyed John with a frank curiosity and John felt himself to be utterly enchanted by the little boy’s curious looks.  
“Hallo young man.”  
“Hàlo.”  
Robbie answered in a slightly defiant tone of Gaelic, picking up on his mother’s own feeling of unease about this stranger.  
“A pleasure to meet you.”  
“Robbie…”  
Claire urged and the little chap stuck his chin out, eyeing Lord John as though he had committed some grave insult. Claire gave him a discreet nudge and widened her eyes in silent command.  
“Ye servant Sir.”  
Robbie said finally, his voice high and liltingly sweet. John wondered if Jamie had sounded that way as a little boy and the thought warmed him.  
“Good boy. Go and fetch your father.”  
Claire gave him another gentle nudge and Robbie went, looking over his shoulder a couple of times before disappearing into the house..  
“He favours you both in a most extraordinary combination.”  
John murmured and Claire smiled despite herself.  
“He does, Brianna is far more like Jamie. Is … Oh!”  
Claire’s hand flew to her throat and she took an involuntary step back. John followed the line of her gaze and his face softened seeing William walking toward them.  
“There you are!”  
He beckoned William closer and smiled.  
Claire felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs but bobbed her head in greeting  
“Mrs Fraser, it is my pleasure to introduce my step-son, William Ransom, 9th Earl of Ellesmere.”  
“My pleasure…the pleasure … is all mine.”  
Claire stammered and closed her eyes taking a fortifying breath. The child looked nothing like the little boy Claire vaguely remembered from the stables at Helwater. His nose had lengthened and his cheekbones flattened, lending a prominent slant to his bright blue eyes. There was still a little puppy fat around his face and frame but he held the promise of size that would rival Jamie’s own.  
“Forgive me my Lords. Please …”  
“Is that an apple tree? May I have an apple?”  
William interrupted, pointing at the tree beside Claire’s garden, very obviously dripping with apples.  
“Willie!”  
John hissed and gave his best paternal grimace  
“Please, help yourself.”  
Claire gestured weakly and the boy dashed off without a second glance at either adult  
“Don’t dirty your … oh never mind!”  
Lord John turned back to Claire with a rueful smile  
“Please excuse my son’s manners. He is a walking appetite and unaccustomed to being without sustenance for the length of time we have ridden today.”  
“It’s fine, perhaps we could …”  
Claire was about to usher them inside but a flash of red caught her eye and she saw Jamie striding towards them, Bree and Robbie at his heels. His face was carefully blank but a faint blush was creeping up his neck and his fists were loosely cured by his side. John stole a glance at Claire and noted that she had pursed her own lips in readiness for whatever was about to happen.  
*Well, did you expect an embrace?*  
The little voice was back again but this time John shoved it aside and turned to greet Jamie Fraser, Laird Broch Tuarach.


	12. Old friends, new situations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of LJG and Willie visiting Lallybroch.

“What are ye doin’ here?”  
Jamie’s words were clipped and his tone unusually sharp. Before John had a chance to answer though, there was an almighty snapping sound and William Ransom toppled out of the apple tree, along with a flurry of fruit and a rather large, but apparently rotten, branch.  
Jamie had whipped round at the noise and now turned back to John, his face bleached white with shock.  
“Are ye mad?”  
His voice was barely above a whisper and John wondered if Fraser was about to strangle him on the spot.  
“Da, should I go and help … er … whoever that is?”  
Bree nodded toward William who was picking himself up with as much dignity as he could muster.  
“No. Go back into the house, take ye brother.”  
“But …”  
“Now, Brianna!”  
Jamie seldom raised his voice to Bree and her nostrils flared with indignation but she did as he asked without further comment.  
“Ye canna stay.”  
Jamie snapped as soon as the children were out of earshot.  
“Well I …”  
“No. Ye come to my home wi’ … him, wi’out notice and … ye just … I …”  
Jamie was so far beside himself that words failed him and he flapped his hands before clenching them into fists at his side. Claire stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, a silent message passing between them an instant before she turned her gaze back to John.  
“Perhaps you could start by telling us why you are here, Lord John.”  
“Gladly Mrs Fraser, but perhaps I might be permitted to sit …”  
“If ye legs are weary, sit down. Ye arse is no’ too pampered for Scottish soil.”  
Jamie snapped and John gave him a withering look, straightening his legs and drawing himself up to his full height.  
“I can see that we are not welcome. We shall be leaving. Good day, Sir.”  
He began to turn away and Jamie’s arm shot out, catching his sleeve.  
“John, why are ye here?”  
John froze, torn between the desire to rip his cuff from Jamie’s fingers and the urge to press the skin of his forearm against those beautiful, rough knuckles and feel the springy red hair that glossed each one rasp against his flesh. He looked up from the hand and into those unfathomable azure blue eyes. How many nights had he spent seeing those eyes, so carefully committed to memory over the course of the years?  
*Too many*  
John thought ruefully and sighed  
“I have married Lady Isobel, I am William’s step-father and I am moving us to Virginia, in the America’s. I do not know exactly when but it will be soon.”  
Jamie’s mouth dropped open in shock and he gawped at John in a way that under other circumstances would have been quite amusing as it was John just felt embarrassment burn his ears.  
“I thought … I mean … It is a very long way and I doubt I shall return for many, many years and William … I thought you may wish to …”  
He made a helpless gesture and turned to look out over the garden. Willie was perched quite happily on the fence eating one of the fallen apples and trying to entice some hapless insect to climb onto a stick, completely unaware of the tensions a mere twenty feet from him.  
“Gentlemen,”  
Claire’s voice pulled John out of his reverie and he turned to face her obligingly  
“Perhaps this conversation can be completed best in the study with a drop of brandy and a bite to eat?”  
Jamie nodded mutely but John bowed gratefully. He had the sense to know that whichever way Mrs Fraser decided to lean on the subject of his presence, her husband was sure to follow.  
“I am much obliged. Ah…William?”  
“I’ll see to him.”  
Claire smiled as Jamie’s brow creased into a frown  
“Sassenach ye dinna have to …”  
“It’s fine, Mrs Crook has a cake in the larder and if Willie is not sick of the taste of apples yet, there is fresh pressed juice in the pantry. We’ll be just fine.”  
The look that passed between husband and wife sent a bolt of jealousy surging through John like lightening, making it momentarily hard for him to breathe. He must have made some small noise of distress for Jamie glanced in his direction and fixed him with a gimlet eye before jerking his head in the direction of the house.  
*  
“Did ye no’ think about how it might shame my wife to have ye ride into her home wi’ my …”  
Jamie couldn’t bring himself to say the word and broke off, looking away angrily.  
“Actually, no, I didn’t. Because I didn’t bloody know you had a wife!”  
“I told ye so, many times…”  
“You told me she was killed at Culloden!”  
“I said she was lost at Culloden!”  
“And I was supposed to divine what from that, exactly?!”  
John cried, exasperated with being made to feel guilty for something he had no way of knowing. Jamie huffed into his brandy glass but had to concede the point. His own guilt was making him unreasonable and they both knew it.  
“When you left Helwater you simply said that you wished to have your freedom, you didn’t mention that your wife had returned.”  
The note of accusation in John’s voice was reined in but prominent enough for Jamie to catch and he gave John a sharp look over the rim of his glass.  
“Aye, I felt I had explained myself and my movements to ye and the Dunsany’s long enough. Perhaps …”  
He stopped himself, shrugging.  
“Ye’re right, ye couldna ha’ ken that Claire was back wi’ me, but I might have remarried in these last four years and ye could ha’ thought about that.”  
John inclined his head.  
“True but I never got the impression that another woman would be able to replace the current Mrs Fraser in your affections.”  
Jamie snorted and made a noise at the back of his throat that to John sounded like stifled gas, but he understood it to mean that Fraser was grudgingly agreeing with him.  
“Still, ye could ha’ written.”  
“I did. Weeks ago! You didn’t receive my letter?”  
“No.”  
Jamie said flatly and then seeking to move the conversation on, turned his line of questioning to other matters.  
“So ye marrit Isobel?”  
“I did.”  
John knew he sounded defensive but Fraser sounded amused so in terms of impropriety their reactions were fairly equal.  
“Why?”  
“I think ‘Congratulations’ is the more accustomed reaction.”  
“Congratulations. Why?”  
“She … needed a decent husband and whilst I may not fit the bill on all counts, I am able to provide a good name and stability and I rather thought that given the choice of myself or a stranger to raise Willie you might rather take the stance of ‘Better the Devil you know’.”  
“Christ! Dinna tell me ye wed the lass for me?”  
John rolled his eyes at the positively scandalised look on Fraser’s face.  
“Not for you, no. But perhaps in part because of you.”  
John held up a hand seeing the older man draw breath to protest.  
“Mostly though I married Isobel because I love William dearly and could not bear to think of him under a strangers care.”  
“Better the Devil ye know?”  
Jamie smirked cocking a ruddy eyebrow at John in a manner that rather made John want to toss the contents of his glass over the Scot’s head.  
“Quite.”  
They sat in silence for a moment before Jamie stood paced over to the window. John watched him brace himself against the wood and allowed himself a brief moment to admire the broad set of his shoulders and the gentle curve of his spine beneath the smooth linen of his shirt. He had never seen Jamie Fraser in his own habitat before and found that in doing so, his understanding of the man gained another dimension. A naturally graceful and commanding man, in his own study he moved with elegance that John could not have imagined possible.  
“How is he then?”  
Jamie asked finally.  
“If you’re quite finished with your temper you could go and see for yourself.”  
John spoke mildly and was gratified to see Jamie’s shoulders hunch – just as Willie’s did when caught in some misbehaviour.  
“He loves horses and has developed quite a passion for riding. His favourite colour is blue and he can’t stand gooseberries in any form. He is good with dogs, terrible with mathematics and lacks discipline to an almost comical degree. He seems to have a gift for languages and is ferociously competitive, what else would you like to know?”  
“Is he well? Is he happy?”  
“He is of the most robust health and to the best of my knowledge he is a very happy child.”  
“Ye ha’ taken over his discipline I take it? His lack of restraint always sat ill wi’ me.”  
John took the olive branch tentatively.  
“I have. A hungry belly for the night or being forced to read ‘De revolutionibus orbium coelestium’ aloud until I have had my fill seems to be fairly effective at encouraging him to better manners and milder temper.”  
Jamie actually smiled at that and nodded  
“Aye, I think that it would do for me as well.”  
“Really? I always found Copernicus to be something of a treat.”  
John kept his face straight for a few moments longer and then allowed himself a smile.  
“Come and speak to him Jamie.”  
It was unusual to speak his name and John felt a small glow of warmth in his chest as the syllables rolled off of his tongue.  
“Aye, I will. I need to speak to Claire as well but … if ye wish to stay for a day or two…”  
“Let’s see how we go, shall we?”  
John offered gently and with a heavy sigh of trepidation Jamie allowed himself to be lead out to see his son.


	13. Introductions.

Jamie and John could hear laughter as soon as they opened the study door. High pitched shrieks of delight momentarily preceded Claire’s laughter and half-sincere pleas for calm. When they entered the kitchen they found Robbie being chased round and round the table by Willie, both with cooking pots on their heads as helmets and wooden spoon swords.  
“I’LL SLIT YER BLOODY GIZZARD YE …Oh!”  
Willie skidded to a halt and grinned guiltily up at his step-father and his step-father’s friend.  
Robbie, not realising that the game was on a temporary hiatus, continued his trajectory around the table and crashed into Willie, helmet first. The older boy fell forward, the pot falling over his eyes as large hands caught him under his armpits and kept him from sprawling across the floor.  
“Careful.”  
A deep Scottish voice said somewhere above his head and for a second warmth and a feeling of being completely safe overcame him in the darkness of the copper pot, the remembered scent of horses and hay fresh and clear but it faded as the heavy hands released him and lighter ones took their place. Willie scowled as he was unceremoniously stripped of his armour and found himself looking into Lord John’s pale blue eyes, a few inches from his own.  
“William.”  
“Ah … Hello Papa.”  
He smiled shyly and was favoured with the smallest of smiles in return.  
“It is my most profound hope that I misheard a certain word when I entered the room.”  
John arched an eyebrow and Willie nodded bashfully  
“I couldn’t possibly say, Papa.”  
John broadened his smile and nodded  
“Then I will presume I was mistaken. However be aware William, my hearing is seldom wrong twice.”  
Willie bobbed his head and John straightened  
“Good, then allow me to introduce you to Mr James Fraser, Laird Broch Tuarach.”  
Jamie didn’t dare to draw breath as Willie turned his eyes towards him, those perfectly blue, slanted Fraser eyes.   
“It is a true pleasure to meet ye, I have heard much about ye.”  
Jamie bowed lightly to William and was pleased to see that the lad returned the gesture with a natural grace and poise as he responded in the appropriate fashion.  
“The pleasure is entirely mine, Laird Brock Toorack.”  
William stumbled over the Gaelic pronunciation and offered Jamie a small shy smile before turning his attention back to John.  
“Papa, Mrs Fraser … ah … Lady Brock Toorack says that Robbie and I can feed the chickens.”  
“Actually I said if it was alright with your step-father you could feed the chickens.”  
Claire smiled and Willie nodded, waving his hand in a slightly dismissive gesture that made Jamie’s cringe slightly. Clearly the young earl was not entirely accustomed to being corrected. John shrugged unsure of why Willie particularly wanted to feed the birds but it didn’t bother him either.  
“All right, but do as you are told.”  
Willie let out an excited whoop before dashing for the backdoor, Robbie trotting excitedly in his wake.  
“I’m goin’ wi’ Willie, Mam!”  
He called over his shoulder.  
“Ye ask ye Mam if ye may go, ye dinna tell her …”  
Jamie called but his heart wasn’t truly in the scolding, his legs felt like they were going to buckle at any moment and he needed to sit down.   
John glanced across at his friend and puffed out his cheeks.  
“That wasn’t so bad was it?”  
“No, No it wasna so bad.”  
Jamie shook his head to clear the slight ringing in his ears and flopped down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs that the boys had scattered in their game. John glanced between Jamie and his wife and felt suddenly as though he was intruding on a very private moment, although he could not say exactly why.  
“Ah… perhaps I shall see that William is not terrorising your livestock.”  
He said awkwardly, crossing hurriedly to the back door, leaving the Fraser’s to each other.   
Claire laid her hand against Jamie’s shoulder and he looked up at her, a silly sort of half smile on his face.  
“Are you alright?”  
“Aye, it’s just … I didna think … I mean…”  
“He looks like Bree.”  
Claire felt her chest tighten slightly at the words but they were true and she would not punish Jamie afresh for something she had long come to terms with.  
“Aye, he does. I hadna thought to see the lad again and … well I dinna ken what I was expecting. I suppose just for it to be more … momentous.”   
“Pots and pans soldiers not exciting enough for you?”  
Claire smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.   
“It’s just that, Sassenach! It seemed so regular, like …”  
“Like he belongs?”  
Claire asked softly. Jamie nodded and squeezed her hand lightly.  
“I canna thank ye enough for bein’ sae understanding Claire, I dinna care to imagine how ye must think o’ me right now.”  
“It’s not a surprise Jamie, I knew about Willie from the start remember?”  
“Yes. Ye did. But it’s one thing to see it briefly and another to study a thing up close and I want ye to ken it doesna sit lightly wi’ me Claire.”  
“I know.”  
“Where’s Brianna?”  
“Reading in her room. I'm afraid she may have recognised Willie.”  
Jamie grimaced and stood up  
"Did she say anything?"  
"No, she put on that impenetrable bloody Fraser mask and excused herself."   
“Should I talk to her do ye think?”  
“Not right now,”  
Claire shook her head  
“Jenny on the other hand…”  
“Christ! She’s seen him too?”  
“She has and she’s decided to go for a walk to take Ian and the boy’s their lunch.”  
Jamie rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. All he needed was Jenny getting it into her head to be chewing his ear off about it all.  
“Maybe you should help John supervise the boys?”  
Claire suggested, seeing the look of concern on her husband’s face. Jamie licked his lip and nodded but made no move to stand  
“I canna spend too much time wi’ him Sassenach. What if he notices the look o’ me?”  
“He’s eight years old Jamie!”  
“Aye but he’s no’ blind!”  
Jamie balled his fists on his knees and allowed his head to droop.  
“I’m afraid Claire. My God! Coward that I am, I’m afraid.”  
“It’s not cowardice Jamie, it’s to be expected but this time with William is a gift, all be it a rather shocking one!”  
Jamie looked up sharply but Claire’s face held no trace of ill-grace and he nodded in agreement  
“It is.”  
“Then go and spend time with him. I’ll see to Bree and Jenny!”  
Claire tugged Jamie’s arm lightly and pulled him to his feet, nudging him towards the happy cries of both his sons.


	14. Things begin to get messy ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short update (sorry guys) I keep getting distracted with other projects but will try to focus in on this one again ASAP :)

Jamie stepped into the yard and as his eyes briefly adjusted to the sunlight, he saw the outline of his sons, both children crouched low, offering seed to the chickens from their palms. John was holding the sack of grain in his arms, protectively above the gaggle of hens surrounding them.  
“Ye have to cup ye hand a bit wi’ hens. Wi’ horses ye hold ye hand flat.”  
“I know how to feed horses, I have three of my own!”  
Willie bragged and Robbie turned to the older boy, mouth agape with awe.  
“Do ye really?”  
“Yes. Zeus, Cobalt and Alexandria.”  
Willie pronounced each name with careful pride and Jamie felt a small smile tug at his mouth.   
“My Da’s middle name is Alexandria.”  
“That’s a girl’s name!”  
“No it isna!”  
Robbie glowered, indignant and Jamie stepped forward, crouching between them  
“Aye it is, and my middle name is Alexander. Ye were almost right a bhalaich.”  
“Oh.”  
Robbie stood up and dusted his hands off on his breeks, losing interest in them both.  
“Ye like horses then William?”  
Jamie asked, turning his attention to the other boy.   
“Yes Sir. My mother says that I could ride almost before I could walk.”  
Willie looked up at Jamie and studied him with the frank curiosity of young children.  
“Ah, I was the same and Robbie too.”  
Jamie flashed a quick smile at his youngest and drew him close to his side. He knew it was a cowardly to use a four year old as a shield, but Robbie was a good middle man between he and Willie whilst they got acquainted and also kept Willie from focusing too hard on Jamie.   
“Can I see your horses?”  
Willie asked, mirroring Robbie’s gesture and standing as he rubbed his hands down his trousers, sending the chickens into a frenzy at his feet as the grain scattered. With a yelp he clung to Jamie and was hoisted over the squawking birds and placed down at a safe distance.  
“There ye go laddie.”  
“Thank you!”  
Willie grinned.  
“SOD OFF!!!”  
John was now the subject of all fowl attentions and apparently none too happy about it. He was not exactly kicking at the creatures but his right foot was wiggling about at an alarming rate. Willie and Robbie fell about laughing and even Jamie could not supress a smile as he waded through to help him.  
“Beastly creatures!”  
John huffed as he finally managed to extradite himself from the melee, a hand braced on Jamie’s shoulder for support.  
“You two can stop cackling too!”  
He snapped at the boys, although there was no real fire to his words and they largely ignored him.  
“Ye may wish to change ye breeks.”  
Jamie cocked an eyebrow and looked pointedly down at the white and brown smudges up John’s legs making the younger man grimace.  
“Willie, please would you run upstairs and find some clean trousers? I don’t wish to traipse this through Lady Broch Tuarach’s house.”  
Willie was still giggling but bobbed his head and took off at a run to do as he was asked, Robbie stumbling after him, eager to be wherever his new best friend was.  
“Well! He must be in a particularly good mood!”  
“I once saw a cow shit on my Da’s boot, it amused me to a similar degree as I recall.”  
Jamie commented innocently and John shot him a withering look.  
“So I can expect his sense of humour to remain as uncouth as it currently is then?”  
“Och I dinna ken about that. I think I outgrew such things.”  
“From the look on your face I must disagree!”  
John quipped but his own expression was softening into a smile as well and Jamie sighed contentedly.  
“I don’t think he remembers me.”  
“He still mentions Mac the Groom with regularity but it has lessened. I think if he were to see you where he last saw you, it would come to him. Children rely on places quite heavily for recollection.”  
John sounded defensive and Jamie waved him off good-naturedly.  
“Aye and a good thing too. My daughter Brianna has noticed though and I dinna ken how long I can offer ye both hospitality without it bringing the house down.”  
“We don’t have to stay …”  
“Ye can stay John, but please dinna linger here too long.”  
Jamie knew the words stung, it pained him to say them but as much as John Grey insisted he had brought Willie to see him, Jamie knew the truth was deeper than that. If John Grey was going to America it meant that he himself was very unlikely to see Jamie again and no doubt he wished to say a good bye of his own.  
*  
As Willie charged up the stairs, Robbie hot on his heels, he noticed a girl watching him from the floor above, her long red hair hanging over the banister.  
“Do you know where my father’s things have been put? He needs breeks.”  
He called and frowned when she didn’t answer, instead withdrawing and slamming a door somewhere.  
When the boys reached the floor she had been stood at Willie knocked on the nearest door and heard a chair scrape back and feet stomping towards the door.  
“Yes?”  
The red haired girl looked down at him and Willie puffed his chest out at the obvious distain in her tone.  
“Excuse me, do you know where …”  
“No.”  
She snapped and went to shut the door when her eyes lit on Robbie stood behind Willie  
“Robbie! Come here!”  
“Why?”  
“Because I said so!”  
Bree glared and reached past Willie, tugging her little brother into the room. As the door slammed in Willie’s face he heard Robbie wail something about wanting to go with him and the girl hastily promise him something in a hushed voice.  
“NO! I WANT WILLIE!”  
“He can come with me if he wants …”  
Willie called through the door and was met with a cuss that he had not heard before and instruction to go away.  
Realising that Robbie was not likely to be allowed back out, he decided to go back downstairs and ask where his Papa’s things were and maybe try and inform Mrs Fraser that he had lost her son to a tall, angry girl.


	15. Blood is always thicker.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me this far, I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

“Brianna?”  
Claire rapped her knuckles on the wood and waited for a second before opening it. Bree was sat on the window sill, knees drawn up under her chin, staring down at the courtyard below. She didn’t so much as glance in her mother’s direction but Robbie, who had been sat on the floor with a sheet of Bree’s precious canvas and pot of paint leapt up and hurried towards her.  
“Mam! I did a painting!”  
Claire looked at the daubs of colour amongst bold lines and smiled  
“It’s wonderful darling!”  
“It’s Da on a horse.”  
Robbie beamed proudly and Claire nodded faithfully. There was a sort of four legged log and a large swirl of paint above it that could well be Jamie’s head if one was imaginative.  
“Excellent! Why don’t you go and find him and tell him all about it?”  
“Is Willie wi’ Da?”  
“Of course he is!”  
Bree muttered and Claire looked up sharply  
“Go and see love. I’ll be down soon.”  
Robbie hurried off and Claire closed the door lightly behind him.  
“Bree…”  
“Who’s child is that?”  
“Brianna …”  
“Obviously his father is Da. But who is his mother?”  
Claire could see the tide of red creeping up from her daughter’s collar and took a deep breath. She had dealt with the Fraser temper enough times to know what was coming if she didn’t tread carefully.  
“His mother was Geneva Dunsany, the eldest daughter of the family …”  
“Dunsany? Where he was before we came back?”  
“Yes and she was…”  
“Was? So she died?”  
“Yes, in childbirth.”  
Claire took advantage of the pause that gave her daughter to press on  
“Brianna, I know it is a shock …”  
“To me it is, but apparently not to you!”  
The note of accusation in her voice made Claire flinch.  
“Ah … well … it is a shock to see William here, but I did know of his existence beforehand, you’re right.”  
“And you’re just fine with it?”  
Bree’s voice was rising along with her colour now and Claire made a shushing motion with her hands  
“I wasn’t but the situation with your father and Geneva was … ah … complicated and …”  
“IT ALWAYS BLOODY IS!”  
Bree roared, thumping her hand on the windowsill hard enough to leave a bruise as she jumped to her feet  
“We came back because of one complicated situation he made with you and now there is another one with someone else!”  
“Bree, life is not always easy…”  
“He told me that he loved you since the day he met you! How is it possible if he had a child with someone else? What about you? What about me? Did he even think about us at all?”  
“Of course! Darling …”  
Claire stepped forward and tried to fold Brianna into her arms but she pushed back and stood glaring at her mother fists balled at her side.  
“Why do you not hate him?”  
Brianna had worked herself into such an inferno of rage that she did not even give Claire a chance to answer her question as she swept her hand across her desk, sending the water pitcher and basin crashing to the floor in a shower of porcelain.  
“Bree!”  
“We left everything for him … you left Daddy! You made me come here for my ‘real’ father but …”  
"What the Hell is goin' on?" The door swung open and Jamie stepped into the room pressing it closed behind him, looking between his wife and daughter in shock, his eyes darting down to the mess on the floor.  
“I don’t want to talk to you. Get out of my room!”  
Brianna spat, her eyes narrowed to slits and Claire placed herself bodily between them as she saw her husband’s own eyes tighten and he made to step forward.  
“Ye’ll no’ speak to me like that.”  
Jamie warned, fixing his daughter with a gimlet eye over the top of Claire’s head.  
Bree stuck her chin out stubbornly and matched his furious stare without flinching.  
“I’m not afraid of you.”  
“I dinna wish ye to be, but if ye dinna mind yeself ye will come to regret it.”  
Jamie snapped, moving around Claire to face his child, fragments of the basin crunching beneath his boots.  
“You betrayed Mama.”  
“I didna betray your mother.”  
Jamie’s voice was low and dangerous, his own neck flushing crimson and he clasped the hem of his breeks to prevent himself shaking the lass.  
“Aye! You did! Maybe that is just what men do but at least Daddy didn’t have children with anyone else!”  
Claire had been looking between the two of them helplessly but now her eyes settled on Brianna with a new light of understanding.  
“You knew about your … Frank’s affairs?”  
“The walls in Boston were thin and I’m not stupid.”  
Bree said, without breaking her stare from Jamie.  
“But you were so young…”  
“I know Mama.”  
Bree flicked her eyes once towards her mother and gave her a brief smile before turning her face back toward Jamie. Most of the anger had left her face now, speaking of Frank had drained her leaving only a hollow hurt feeling.  
“Why Da? What happened?”  
Jamie took a deep breath through his nose and allowed his head to hand for a moment in quiet contemplation.  
“I understand ye are angry. I canna blame ye for that Brianna and I would have liked to ha’ told ye when ye were older and not had ye find out in this way; but I dinna owe ye an explanation o’ my actions concerning another and ye dinna ha’ a right to demand one from me.”  
Bree blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and bit her lip hard.  
“You said you loved Mama with your whole heart and soul. You promised.”  
“I do love ye mother, and I love ye and Robert, more than life,”  
Jamie felt his chest tighten with the words and prayed that she might believe them.  
“But William is also my son and I canna send him away.”  
He took a tentative step forward, reaching out to Bree. The girl startled slightly as if expecting a blow and Jamie licked his lip willing his voice to remain steady  
“Nothing is changed between us Brianna. Ye are still my daughter, mo nigheann rudaih.”  
“But William …”  
“Is a child. He doesna ken I’m his father and I would ask that ye keep it so. None of this is his fault.”  
“No it’s not.”  
Brianna agreed and took long gulp of air.  
“Who does he think his father is?”  
“The Eighth Earl of Ellesmere.”  
Jamie said curtly. Bree nodded again, suddenly exhausted.  
“Do you… have any other children?”  
“No.”  
Jamie shook his head curtly once and bridged the distance between them, enfolding Brianna in his arms before she had a chance to protest. For a second she stood rigidly against him, before her arms circled his waist and her fingers tightly gripped the fabric of his shirt.  
Claire watched them for a moment longer and then quietly slipped from the room as much to compose herself as to give them space.  
Jamie rested his cheek against the top of Bree’s head and waited for her shoulders to stop shaking before pulling back and pressing a handkerchief into her hand.  
“I told ye I dinna owe ye an explanation Brianna and I do stand by it, but I promise ye that I will tell ye how these things came to be one day. Will ye grant me the favour o’ ye patience a while longer?”  
Bree sniffed and nodded, mopping her face and handing the soggy handkerchief back to him, remembering the time when she was still so new here and everything so unknown, that he had let her weep for Frank and helped her blow her nose on his sleeve for want of a handkerchief. Her father, flawed and human as any one person surely was but open and accepting of her and her mother, no matter the cost to himself.  
“I will.”  
She nodded again and felt the silent breath leave his body as he relaxed.  
“Ye dinna have to see William if ye dinna wish to.”  
“I should. He’s … well … he’s my half-brother and I wasn’t very nice to him earlier.”  
“Och! Wee laddie’s are a pain, he’ll need to get used to lassie’s shooing him off.”  
Jamie smiled and Bree returned his smile shakily.  
“Can I have a minute Da? I need to fix my hair and tidy this up…”  
Bree gestured to the smashed earthenware and Jamie’s lip twitched  
“Aye, I’m afraid the end result o’ a temper is no’ a pleasure to deal wi’.”  
He stepped carefully back and crouched down scooping some of the fragments into his palm  
“but ye needna do it alone.”  
“Thank ye Da.”  
Bree smiled and crouched to begin picking up the pieces alongside him.


	16. Missing Link.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Building on Willie's arrival and how - in my mind - it may have gone if it had happened in different circumstances from those of the books.  
> There will be fluff soon - I promise! xx

Jenny was sweeping the bottom stairs as Bree and Jamie made their way down with the remains of the pitcher carried between them. She glanced up and took in Bree’s red-rimmed eyes and the tight set of her brother’s shoulders and clucked her teeth gently against her teeth in sympathy.  
“Bree, gi’ ye Da the rest o’ that. He can manage it. Jamie, would ye mind dropping it in the box by the kitchen door, I dropped a bowl yesterday and have yet to get rid o’ that breakage.”  
She instructed; standing and setting the brush and pan aside. Jamie raised his eyebrows, but obligingly took the fragments from Brianna, cradling them in his own massive hands, eyeing his sister carefully as one might watch a temperamental horse to avoid being bitten. Jenny, however, only had eyes for her niece and as they reached where she stood, Jenny held out her arms and drew Brianna gently to her.  
“Come here mo luaidh. Lay ye head a moment.”  
Jenny tiptoed to allow Bree to comfortably rest her forehead on her shoulder and rubbed her back with small soothing circles.  
“It’s just another stitch in life’s tapestry, Ghraidh. It doesna alter ye place at all.”  
Bree nodded and squeezed her aunt a little tighter, amazed as always by the slender set of Jenny’s bones, so fragile for such a strong woman. Jenny smiled at her brother over her nieces bowed head and motioned with her eyes for him to give them a moment.  
“The box by the kitchen door brathàir.”  
She prompted gently.  
“Where’s Mama?”  
Bree whispered.  
“Speaking wi’ his lordship.”  
“What about …”  
“Our wee Robert is keeping young William quite busy wi’ ‘hide and go seek’. I dinna ken who’s turn it is at the moment but I’ve told them to keep outside a bit.”  
“You’ve met him?”  
Bree whispered and felt Jenny nod against her.  
“Aye. I have.”  
Jenny stated; offering no further opinion or insight and Bree didn’t know whether that made her more nervous or simply grateful to be able to make her own judgements. Jenny gently leant back onto her heels and eased Bree upright without releasing her hold on the girl’s arms.  
“Now, what ye need is a wee dram. I dinna ken that ye Da will approve, but I dinna think ye Mam will mind o’er much.”  
Brianna sniffed and grinned  
“Mama does say it’s the best thing for shock!”  
“Aye and she’ll be right about that. It’s a great fortifier and gi’ ye a wee notch o’ courage.”  
Jenny’s eyes twinkled as she pulled a small bottle and two little cups, just slightly bigger than an egg-cup from her apron and handed them to Bree.  
“Hold these a moment…”  
The smell of whisky made Bree’s nose sting, though from the colour she could tell it had been diluted with a fair bit of water.  
Jenny raised one of the little cups to her niece.  
“To learning to cope wi’ men, and the daft things they do!”  
Bree smothered a laugh with her hand and raised her own cup  
“Slantè.”  
“Are ye encouraging my daughter to drink now?”  
Jamie smiled, glad to hear his daughter laughing.  
“Just a wee nip.”  
Jenny winked at her niece and held out the bottle to her brother for inspection. Jamie sniffed cautiously and his smile widened.  
“At least ye’re teaching her to have a refined pallet. Is this Ian’s cherry wood cask?”  
“The 1744 batch – aye.”  
Jamie closed his eyes and inhaled appreciatively.  
Bree puffed out her cheeks and let out a slow, even breath.   
“I need to find Mama, but after that I think … I think I’ll go outside.”  
Jenny nodded casually  
“Let me know if ye wish to ha’ company.”  
“I will. Thank you Aunt Jenny.”  
Bree squeezed her aunt’s hands lightly in thanks.  
“Aye, ye’re welcome. On ye way now.”  
Jamie watched Bree go and then let out a long sigh.  
“Thank ye Jenny, for … Bree. I didna think to …”  
“Dinna fash, a woman kens a woman’s thoughts.”  
Jamie nodded as Jenny waved him over to the stairs and together they sat down, side-by-side as they had when they were bairns. Jenny turned to sit facing her brother but Jamie remained facing the hall. He gave Jenny a side-long glance, trying to measure her mood but her face was carefully blank.  
“I ken ye must be itchin’ to give me an ear bashin’.”  
He offered, attempting to sound casual. Jenny snorted and shook her head  
“Ye’ve enough on ye plate at the minute, ken?”  
“When did that e’er stop ye?”  
Jamie laughed and Jenny’s lip quirked upwards in acknowledgement of the truth of his statement.  
“I would like to ken about the laddie, his Mam and such like, but it’s your business Jamie. Ye’ll tell me or ye won’t.”  
Jamie’s shoulders sagged in relief as Jenny shrugged, then looking furtively around, she lowered her voice to a near whisper and leant in close to her brother.   
“He’s a bonnie lad though, isn’t he?”  
“Aye he is.”  
Jamie smiled softly.  
“Braw too – does he … perhaps ye may no’ remember sae well … he reminds me o’ our Willie, ken?”  
Jamie nodded eagerly, he had thought the same but he had never really had anyone he could tell.  
“Aye, he’s more o’ the Fraser look than the Mackenzie – more like ye and Willie than me.”  
“True but he’ll ha’ the Mackenzie height.”   
Slowly Jenny reached across and lightly cupped Jamie’s cheek in her hand, turning his head so that he looked at her before folding her hands back into her lap.  
“Ye ken I love Claire dearly, I mean no disrespect to her in what I am about to say but … I am glad ye were no’ completely alone Jamie … in England I mean. I … all those years … I am glad ye had the wee lad… at least a little bit of ye kin with ye.”  
Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat with difficulty and gently brought Jenny’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss on her middle knuckle.  
“Thank you Jenny.”  
No one else had understood so clearly what Willie had meant to Jamie and he had not thought that anyone would. John understood to an extent and Claire had done her best; though it was too much to expect her to completely understand.   
To have someone comprehend so completely without having to explain a thing was like breathing air after diving too deep in a lake and fighting his way back to the surface.   
“Ye had already told Claire?”  
“She met him. When she found me at Helwater.”  
Jenny sucked air sharply through her teeth  
“Ach! I’m sorry! It was my thought that she be the one to fetch ye. I didna ken …”  
“Dinna fash.”  
Jamie waved off her apology and smiled  
“She wasna happy, truth be told I thought she might tear my balls off right there!”  
He grimaced  
“But she has a kind heart and an open mind and she forgave me. She always forgives me.”  
His voice was so soft Jenny could not be sure she heard him right at first, but the pensive look on his face told her that she had  
“As well she ought, for ye always forgive her too!”  
Standing up she dusted off her spotless skirts and gathered up her brush and dust pan.   
“Life rolls on little brother, we all ken it well.”  
*  
“Hello?”  
Brianna peered at the feet poking out from beneath the huge horse blanket when hung up behind the barn door.  
“Shhh!”  
A hand shot out and pulled her into the thick, smelly folds of felt.  
“I believe your brother may be near-by!”  
“Are you playing hide and seek?”  
“Well it’s hardly chess is it!”  
Willie’s accent was very similar to her Mama’s and Bree grinned in the darkness despite his obvious annoyance  
“True. Sorry.”  
“Are you feeling in better temper now, Miss Fraser?”  
“Er… yes. Sorry about that I was …”  
“Quite alright, Papa tells me it is rude to bang on the doors of young ladies, so I should say sorry really.”  
Bree noticed with a small jolt of irritation that whether he should or not, he didn’t.  
“Well …”  
“Shhh!”  
Bree held her breath and listened, sure enough footsteps, now running, were getting closer. The horse blanket rustled on its hook and then collapsed on top of them with a muted thud as Robbie tugged it to find his prey.  
Willie made a startled noise of disgust and pushed the mass of fabric off of them both  
“FOUND YOU!”  
Robbie shrieked and clapped delightedly.  
“My position was compromised!”  
Willie gave Brianna an indignant look that was completely their father that it stole her breath away. Da’s face, Mama’s voice … it was weird but it sort of fit. Bree had Da’s hair and eyes, Robbie had Mama’s hair and eyes and Willie was just sort of in the middle.  
*A missing link.*   
She thought as Robbie set off at a run yelling that they had to count to a hundred.  
“It should probably be your turn to hide if you’re playing …”  
Willie looked at Brianna anxiously as though she might suddenly realise that it wasn’t fair and burst into tears.  
“It’s fine, we can work together to find Robbie and then I’ll have a turn.”  
Willie’s face brightened instantly  
“What a superb idea Miss Fraser! It won’t take long either; he’ll be in a potato sack by the front door of your house.”  
They grinned at each other and Bree nodded happily.  
“OK but let’s give him a couple of minutes. Please, call me Bree.”  
She held out her hand for William to shake but he dropped to one knee and kissed her knuckle gallantly.  
“Your servant Bree. You can call me Willie.”  
*  
As they wandered towards the loudly giggling potato sack, pretending to look in flower beds and under loose flag stones, Bree discovered Willie had a head for maths and languages but no notion of why people enjoyed poetry or literature to the degree that they did, something she did rather agree with. He didn’t share her passion for history or art but had a feel for geography and fancied becoming a soldier like his Papa when he came of age.   
“My father was a soldier too. He fought in many battles.”  
Bree kept her eyes fixed on the path as she spoke, not daring to look at the boy beside her.  
“Did he win many? He’s very big, I’m sure he was a good soldier.”  
“I think so. You could ask him if you like? He wouldn’t mind.”  
Willie nodded but he was already losing interest and with a shriek pounced on Robbie’s hiding place.   
“GET BREE!!!!”  
Robbie yelled and Bree felt a childish thrill of excitement as both boys turned toward her, slanted eyes alight with mischief.   
“Fine! If you can catch me!”  
*


	17. No Ozone Without Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which LJG has an inevitable run in with Claire and Brianna and the dust begins to settle over his arrival at Lallybroch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special nod to WeeSingingLassie who commented on a previous chapter that Bree has a tendency to be more of a brat than Jamie would tolerate. It got me to thinking again of Jamie's motivations throughout the series of books and love is always at the core when it comes to his family but gentleness comes second to their safety. This IS fundamental to his character and not something that I always do great justice with. Thank you to everyone who comments and leaves kudos on my work, I am always eager for any feedback to improve my writing and make me reconsider well loved characters.

Claire looked out of the window and a faint smile touched her lip at the sight of Jamie's children dashing to and fro in play.  
“Your grace and kindness is greatly appreciated… as is your discretion.”  
John watched Claire’s face as he spoke and was slightly taken aback to see her roll her eyes.  
“My discretion is a moot point as soon as one looks at William and Jamie together. Perhaps you might have considered that more stringently before coming to our home.”  
“Ah…”  
“I trust you remembered my husband’s face well enough to know this?”  
John looked into those hawkish, golden eyes and allowed his nostrils to flair slightly before answering. It was a mildly aggressive action, one that he would not normally have employed against a lady but he had the notion that Jamie’s wife was unlikely to weep and flee the room, no matter what his nostrils did.  
“My memory of your husband is indeed intact. His loyalties as well as his features.”  
“He is deeply loyal to his family and his people.”  
“Precisely.”  
John absentmindedly ran his finger along the smooth glass bottle fronts that lined the shelves in the brightly lit surgery.  
“Do you consider yourself to be one of Jamie’s people?”  
Claire asked, turning from the window to face him. Her hair was escaping in tendrils from the pins and ribbons which had been set to bind it and John was momentarily paralysed as if she truly were a Medusa turning him to stone.  
“Do I …Yes. I suppose in a way I do.”  
“Why? You were his captor.”  
“I was in a position by appointment and Jamie was there by chance.”  
Claire snorted and John felt his fingers twitch against his leg. To raise his hand to the woman would be certain death, Jamie would pulverise him without second thought, but as her lip curved upward contemptuously, he wondered if slapping the smile from her face would be worth it.  
*At least you’d die with his hands on you, what other chance is there of that?*  
He thought and immediately felt his skin flush hotly in response.  
“You stalked him to Helwater, kept him close … there was not much left to ‘chance’.”  
Claire pressed her finger tips into the softly grained wood of her workbench and stared hard at John. There was something more between he and Jamie than Claire knew, it was a small, empty vista in her knowledge of Jamie’s time without her and she could feel the ashes on the breeze of those memories washing over her as she looked at the man before her.  
“What use has a little, blonde soldier with a …”  
“Giant, Highland warrior?”  
John offered, cutting across her insult sharply. He had been in enough duels fought solely with words to know when he was embroiled and he knew that a claim for Jamie Fraser was at stake. Of course not the man himself, that claim rested at the feet of the woman before him as surely as night followed day; but there were smaller plots of that huge heart to be had and if he wished to stay in the shadows of the minute sector that he had, he needed to win.  
“What business do either of us have with him by rights?”  
“I am his wife.”  
“I am his friend.”  
“You were his jailer.”  
“Your husband was a truly honourable man, he still is. He deserved better than deportation.”  
“They all did.”  
“And yet I could not save them all. I could save him.”  
John stepped up to the window and looked across the green expanse that stretched into the sky line.  
“So you gave him servitude?”  
“He had no family to return to – or felt he did not. He had space to live and honest work.”  
“He had a larger cage!”  
“He found ways to entertain himself.”  
John heard the sharp intake of Claire’s breath and knew that he had drawn first blood. He turned to offer a consolatory compliment on some small thing but was met with her palm whipping across his cheek with enough force to make his eyes water.  
He couldn’t blame her, it had been a callous and cruel remark designed to hurt and her reaction sparked the first genuine feeling of liking John had felt toward Lady Broch Tuarach. He refused to press his hand to his burning face, straightening to meet her eyes. Neither spoke for a moment and Claire held his gaze levelly without flinching. The small spark grew within John’s chest. Fraser was right; Claire was a rare woman indeed.  
“I should have liked to offer you the same treatment, but I fear where I deserve it, you do not.”  
He smiled, bowing lightly and was gratified to hear her snort with amusement.  
“You also wish to live through the day.”  
“And that.”  
John’s lip curled upwards and he held his hand out to Claire  
“We do not have to love each other, but we both love him. In our own ways.”  
She took his hand, squeezing lightly.  
“I can see that.”  
“I am sorry for the shock but I hope you can see why…”  
“I can.”  
Claire cut across him and reclaimed her hand.  
“I … ah… understand that your daughter, Brianna, was particularly distressed…”  
“She won’t say anything.”  
Claire snapped and John waved her of in mild irritation  
“I have no doubt of that now that her temper has cooled. I only wished to say that I do understand that I have inadvertently caused quite a stir and that it was not my intention.”  
For the first time, Claire softened towards him, her brows relaxing and something in her eyes retreating, giving him a very slender benefit of whatever doubts she felt.  
“Brianna adores Jamie. She understandably does not want to share his affections with another long-lost child but …”  
Claire shrugged and sighed  
“She will have to. I make no apologies for spoiling my children with affection; it is the one gift every parent can give and I give it in abundance.”  
“I quite understand.”  
John nodded and Claire tilted her head to the side appraising him.  
“Yes, I rather think you do. Taking on a child is … a large undertaking.”  
The unasked question hung heavily in the air between them, so prominent John almost fancied that he could see each of the three letters briefly illuminated in the sunlight, dancing alongside the dust mites ‘Why?’.  
Exceptional as Claire Fraser no doubt was, John declined to offer her an explanation. If she wanted one she could ask Jamie and no doubt he could shed some light on the matter for her if he so chose.  
“Would you like a compress? For your cheek?”  
Claire broke the silence and gestured to John’s face, long white fingers tracing the air inches from his still flushed skin.  
“Thank you but no, I’ll be fine.”  
“Of that I am sure.”  
Claire inclined her head slightly and John realised he had been dismissed.  
“Bloody Frasers!”  
He muttered, closing the door softly behind him.  
*  
“What have we done?”  
The voice, a little deeper than he had imagined, startled him and John looked round almost directly into the depths of the girls slanted cat eyes, the exact same shade as Willie’s … as Jamie’s.  
“Pardon?”  
“You said ‘Bloody Frasers’ – I wondered what we had done?”  
The wide, full lipped mouth turned upwards in a mischievous smile that he had seen in his dreams more times than he dared to try and recall. John stepped away from the surgery door and made his way down the corridor, aiming for Jamie’s study and hopefully some refuge from the Fraser women.  
“Ah … I …”  
“Da says that you overheard my temper and that I am to apologise. I’m sorry for any discomfort caused.”  
Brianna flicked a long strand of red hair over her shoulder nonchalantly and dipped into a miniscule and rigid curtesy. John fought back a smile but couldn’t resist one small snort of amusement.  
“I see you inherited your father’s ability to earnestly say one thing, whilst leaving no trace of doubt that you mean quite the opposite.”  
Brianna stood and blinked slowly at him, her face carefully blank.  
“May I tell my father that you accept my apology?”  
John pursed his lips. He was used to being bested by Fraser and accepted grudgingly that Fraser’s wife was also likely to have the best of him but he was damned if the next generation would have the run of him so easily.  
“No, not yet.”  
Brianna’s eyes narrowed but she forced her expression back to a neutral position.  
“How old are you my dear?”  
“Thirteen.”  
“A curious age for any person.”  
Brianna remained impassive, simply cocking one ruddy eyebrow at him and John bit his lip lightly  
“Your mother assures me you won’t say anything …”  
“About what my lord?”  
Brianna cocked her head innocently to the side and John noticed the first glimmers of Claire about her.  
*Not a delicate blossom then.*  
He thought and clasped his hands behind his back  
“You know what I mean Miss Fraser. I should like to have your assurances.”  
“The perhaps you ought tell me what you want.”  
“I …”  
“I can manage Latin, Gaelic or French if you cannot quite grasp English?”  
“Brianna.”  
The word ripped through the air between them like static electricity and John felt the hairs on the back of his arms stand up. Jamie stepped around the corner, cat-like in his menacing grace.  
*Which of us is the mouse?*  
John wondered briefly before his full attention was taken up by Jamie.  
“I told ye to apologise, no’ further insult our guest.”  
“I did apologise, he didn’t accept it.”  
Bree turned her face stubbornly toward her father and John marvelled at the two of them stood like Viking raiders, ferociously carved in pale marble, impervious to all around them.  
“Then ye seek to make peace, ye dinna exacerbate the situation by asking impertinent questions.”  
“But I …”  
“Seas!”  
Jamie held up a hand and turned to face John in the same movement taking an iron like grip on his daughter’s arm.  
“I am sorry for my child’s rudeness. It has been a deeply turbulent day, but it does not excuse such behaviour.”  
John saw Jamie look down his nose at Brianna as he spoke and noticed a look of uncertainty cross her features. John himself felt particularly awkward. He had not intended for Brianna to get into trouble and he had rather goaded her…  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
Jamie had said something to him and John had completely missed it.  
“I asked if ye would have me punish her for it?”  
“Da!”  
Brianna hissed and Jamie cocked an eyebrow at her.  
“Ye ken ye are no too old to ha’ ye arse skelped lass and the lungs ye ha’ it wouldna remain secret for long anyway.”  
The colour of the girls face almost matched her flaming hair and John felt truly sorry for her. He remembered a similar situation with his mother when he was more or less the same age and it had almost crippled his young pride.  
“I would sooner you did not. I should have accepted your daughter’s apology immediately, not riled her further.”  
He stammered. John was not against discipline but the thought of the young daughter of his beloved Jamie being beaten because he was trying to score back points he had lost to her mother …  
“Are ye sure?”  
Jamie raised both eyebrows at John and the younger man closed his eyes for a moment, striving for both strength and patience.  
“Absolutely. Do not thrash her, Jamie. Please.”  
Jamie made a noise at the back of his throat and looked down at the girl  
“Then we’ll take that apology again, if ye please Brianna?”  
“I’m sorry Lord John, please forgive my outburst.”  
“I accept your apology Miss Fraser.”  
John bowed in the same moment as Brianna curtsied.  
“Good. Now ye aunt requires help in the kitchen and I wish ye to provide it.”  
Jamie spoke firmly knowing that Brianna would likely prefer to hide in her room, but pulverising the venison steak for dinner would do her more good.  
“As ye say father.”  
Jamie stiffened slightly at the tone of her voice and sent her on her way with a sharp slap to the bottom that no doubt contributed to the slamming of the kitchen door a few seconds later.  
“That was bloody mortifying!”  
John snapped as soon as the reverberations of the door quietened  
“Weel, it didna seem appropriate to bash ye heads together.”  
“You … you bloody did that on purpose? Do you have any idea how excruciating that was?”  
“Aye, as it happens I do; and ye didna get the worst end o’ it.”  
Jamie spoke mildly but John knew well enough that he was still vexed from his encounter with his daughter.  
“No I don’t suppose I did, which is surprising.”  
Jamie shrugged, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth  
“Mmmphm. She is bonnie and braw and I love her more dearly than I can say, but I also ken that she is wild and temperamental and doesna ken her place nor hold her tongue near enough as much as she should.”  
Jamie grinned at John  
“I was as bad and worse at her age and I dinna begrudge her it, but all the same she has to learn.”  
His smile faltered and he sighed heavily  
“The world doesna look kindly on those who dinna bide and I would see her well prepared for it.”  
John nodded and puffed out his cheeks  
“To be a father, eh?”  
“I am trusting that ye will be a fine one.”  
Jamie murmured and placed a hand on John’s shoulder gently.  
“I am trusting ye wi’ one third o’ my heart, John.”  
“And I shall endeavour not to let you down.”  
John bowed gravely and Jamie’s smile returned.  
“Ye made a wee bit o’ peace wi’ Claire I take it?”  
“Something like that.”  
“Good.”  
John cleared his throat.  
“It really has been a tiring couple of hours. Do you think perhaps taking Willie and maybe Robert out riding might be a light break for all concerned?”  
Jamie nodded,  
“I will invite Bree as well, though I doubt she will be favouring me wi’ her company for a while.”  
“No, I rather doubt she will.”  
John said dryly and Jamie laughed; a sound that made every other heartache and humiliation John had endured that day more than worth it.  
“I’ll fetch the boys.”  
*


	18. The Heart Remembers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see Jamie and Willie connect.
> 
> As always I thank you for taking the time to read and for any comments/kudos you leave. This series has turned into a huge piece of writing and it is always fantastic to get peoples thoughts and feedback. I do appreciate it.

Jamie watched Willie ride ahead of him with a mixture of awe and joy and a feeling like a thousand butterflies fluttering madly inside his chest, just waiting to burst out and flood the world with colour.  
The lad was assertive but attentive to the beast, named Zeus, and his form was near to perfect, small hands relaxed on the leather reins.   
He had proudly told Jamie that he named each of his horses and Jamie had complimented each choice, although he did think ‘Zeus’ was pushing the boundaries of acceptability. If an eight year old boy was comfortable riding a horse named for a God it suggested a fair amount of arrogance and perhaps a need to be a wee bit more humble in his aspirations.   
“Back straight, Willie!”  
John called and Jamie frowned, he wouldn’t have encouraged the lad to straighten, to do so was to lose natural flexibility of the spine and risk jolting over rocky ground.   
*Aye, but a wee Lord needs to look good in a saddle, no’ thunder o’er Scottish granite.*  
He reminded himself firmly and held his tongue, though he was secretly pleased to see Willie roll his eyes and continue unadjusted in his saddle.  
“Willie is verra good at riding isn’t he Da?”  
Robbie turned in the saddle to look up at his father, gold eyes alight with excitement and Jamie nodded, smiling at the little lad.  
“Aye he is, ye will be too one day.”  
“Can we go faster?”  
Robbie asked eagerly, turning back to watch Willie. Jamie understood how desperately he wanted to catch up with the older boy. He remembered being around the same age, riding with his Da watching his brother canter up ahead and being frantic to be alongside him.  
“Ya!”  
Jamie nudged his heels into Bran’s sides and Robbie gave a thrilled whoop as the wind pushed his hair back against his father’s shirt. Jamie smirked indulgently and took a loose grip on the back of Robbie’s shirt, letting the boy bounce about as he pleased.  
“Willie! Willie!”  
Robbie called and Jamie noticed a small smile curve his eldest son’s jaw. Evidently the lad liked being the leader.  
“Come on then! Catch up!”  
He called and Robbie’s little legs flailed madly against the saddle mimicking his new friend’s movements to go quicker. Jamie wrapped his arm properly about Robbie’s middle and leant low in his saddle, whispering to his son  
“If we go really fast, will ye keep it secret?”  
“Dinna tell Mam!”  
Robbie chirped and Jamie felt a momentary flush of amused guiltiness for how often Robbie must have heard him say those words for them to be so ingrained. He made a mental note to try and stop doing so many things that Claire wouldn’t approve of… after today …  
Jamie spurred Bran forward with another click of his heels. The air was cool but just shy of cold and as the wind pulled stands of his hair loose from his tightly bound club, Jamie felt the years melt away from him. Memories of riding with Claire, galloping over these same trails during their short time at Lallybroch before the war, before it all crumbled around them. God! They had been so young and so fearless! Jamie made a mental note to bring Claire out here as soon as they had the time, just the two of them, to the wee spot they used to visit in the afternoons to drink each other in and revel in the feel of sunlight on their skin … with a jolt, Jamie pulled himself back to the present; they were approaching the meadow and would have a clear stretch to the other side of the woods. It was easy ground, mostly flat and unmarked by rocks or other such debris.   
He drew his horse level with William.  
“Race ye!”  
He called and Willie bobbed his head eagerly, the light of competition glowing in his eyes. Jamie felt a small thrill to see it and adrenaline coursed through his own veins.  
“First to the tree line?”  
He shouted tightening his grip on Robbie and Willie nodded  
“GO!”  
He yelled and the sound of thundering hooves filled the air.  
Jamie held Robbie close to him with his left hand and the reins with his right, eyes flicking between their path and William’s face. The boy was concentrating ferociously on the ground ahead, his smile broad and proud as he began to nose ahead but he was not overconfident with it.  
“Good boy.”  
Jamie murmured.  
“GO! GO! GO!”  
Robbie chanted and Jamie cast his eyes downwards, grinning at the bold excitement of his youngest child, entirely valiant in the saddle.  
*Claire*   
He thought with pride  
*Ye are just like ye mother, laddie.*  
William was pulling further ahead now; his horse, carrying a much lighter cargo than Jamie’s mount, was like beige lightening on the ground.  
*Appropriate!*   
Jamie thought, chuckling to himself and reconsidering his feeling about the name Zeus. A noise made Jamie look to his left and he let out a loud, rich laugh as John, on his grey gelding, surged past them, dried grass and clods of mud flying from his horse’s hooves.  
“Hurry up Fraser!”  
John shouted and then, to Willie, he lifted his hat and waved it  
“I’ll save you a spot at the finish line lad!”  
Jamie bit his lip and stifled a laugh at the look on the boy’s face, half-amusement and half-outrage, blue eyes flaring wildly.  
“I’ll have you!”  
Willie yelled back and, with even more reckless courage than Jamie credited him, lay almost flat along the horse, fingers entwined with the leather.  
“William! Be careful!”  
Jamie yelled, his paternal instincts overtaking his desire to see exactly what the child could do, but as the words left his lips, he noticed that John was doing the exact same thing, his head level with the gelding’s ears, minimising wind resistance and giving the horse signals with his knees alone.  
*He taught him this.*  
Jamie thought with a sudden stab of jealousy.  
John reached the tree line first and jumped down from his horse, beaming at Willie as the lad sat up in the saddle and slapped his thigh in frustration. Jamie and Robbie were only a second or two behind them but Jamie deliberately rode a little wide so that he could observe Willie unobtrusively for a little longer, curious about his reaction to losing.  
John leapt nimbly down from his mount and gathered Zeus’ reins in his hand, soothing the horse and steadying him so that Willie could clamber down safely.  
“I thought you had me at the last!”  
John smiled at his step-son over the snorting beast’s nose.   
“I think I would have if the ground was better.”  
Willie nodded, stooping to pick up some grass to rub down Zeus’ flanks. Jamie was pleasantly surprised that there was no trace of temper or sulk; he had rather expected a tantrum over the stolen victory and felt a little guilty for misjudging the lad.   
Robbie was equally unfazed by their loss and was patting Bran’s mane affectionately and telling the horse how well he had done.   
“Verra good Bran, ye were verra good! Wasn’t he, Da?”  
“Och, Aye. Verra good.”  
Jamie smiled as he swung one leg over the saddle and stepped down. Willie came and stood beside him, tugging unceremoniously on Jamie’s shirt.  
“Lord Brock Toorack?”  
“Aye lad?”  
Jamie backed up against Bran and patted his shoulder for Robbie, who clambered happily onto his back, arms locked around his neck.  
“Have you ever visited Helwater? I … I feel … like I know you.”  
Jamie had been trying to boost Robbie a little higher but at Willie’s words he turned his full attention to the older boy.  
“I …”  
He glanced over at John who shrugged; he had heard the question but was not going to impose his own opinion on the correct answer on Jamie. Jamie hesitated a moment longer and then squared his shoulders, mind made up. There was a difference between not telling the lad something and outright lying to him.  
“Aye, I was … I didna ken that ye would remember me though. Ye called me Mac then.”  
Jamie spoke the name almost uncertainly but Willie’s face lit up in a smile that would remain with Jamie for the rest of his life, tucked away in the small collection of memories that were most dear to him.  
“MAC!”  
The little boy threw his arms around Jamie’s waist and buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt, clinging to him for all he was worth. Jamie’s right arm was still boosting Robbie’s bottom up but his left moved instinctively around Willie’s small shoulders, holding him close. It was a moment he had never dreamed he might have with his eldest son and he blinked furiously to clear his eyes before either of the boys noticed his discomposure.  
“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”  
Willie’s voice was muffled in Jamie’s shirt but the mild accusation was clear all the same.  
“I didna think ye would remember me.”  
Jamie’s voice was thick and slightly deeper than usual and John, who had stayed back, now stepped forward and gently lifted Robbie onto his own shoulders.  
“Shall we have a go on Zeus?”  
“YES! … er … Please!”  
Robbie added looking contritely at his father but Jamie was so intent on Willie he barely noticed the small weight leave his back, let alone Robbie’s delayed manners.  
“Excellent!”  
John smiled and placed a very light hand on Jamie’s elbow, squeezing for less than a second before crossing over to the horses and placing Robbie on Zeus’ back.  
Jamie slowly, tentatively crouched down and pushed Willie gently upright. The boy dashed a hand across his eyes and sniffed mightily and Jamie remembered Bree, only a year older than Willie was now, looking at him with the same mix of hurt and hope in her eyes. His heart squeezed with the realisation that another of his bairns was weeping because of his actions and that once again he had no way of explaining them without causing further hurt.  
“I am sorry I didna say anything William, truly I am sorry.”  
“Why didn’t you write to me Mac? You can write can’t you?”  
Jamie’s lip quirked upwards  
“Aye, I can write. But it wouldna ha’ been proper for me to do so. A groom doesna write to a young lord.”  
“But you’re not a groom! You’re a lord too!”  
Willie frowned and looked down at his feet  
“Didn’t you like me?”  
Jamie gripped the boy’s arms tightly and stared hard at him until Willie lifted his gaze to meet his eyes.  
“I liked ye fine, I still do. But I was a groom when I ken ye and what I am now doesna matter, it would not have been right. That doesna mean I dinna think o’ ye. I do. Verra often.”  
“I think about you too. I missed you Mac.”   
Jamie knew it was foolish but in that moment he didn’t care. Cupping William’s face in his hands, he leant forward and placed a single, tender kiss on the boy’s brow, just below the chestnut cowlick of hair that swept his forehead.  
“And I you laddie.”  
Jamie’s voice was rough with emotion and his chest swelled beneath his shirt, the seams straining against his body. He held his breath until he could trust himself to let it out without lapsing into desperate sobs and completely terrifying the lad. There would be time for him to weep later and he had no doubt that he would; for William and for his Brianna who did not have the blessed shelter of wee Robbie’s youth to shield her from the truth of things. But for now he was here, with his son, both his sons, and it was not a moment to be squandered on regrets.  
“Ye’ve become a verra accomplished rider!”  
Jamie offered, surreptitiously wiping his eyes across his shoulder as Willie rubbed his nose on his sleeve, grinning.  
“Papa say’s I could be the next Archimedes if I spent as much time at my studies as I do on a horse.”  
Jamie laughed and Willie’s smile widened, pleased to have made Mac laugh. Struck by a sudden thought, Willie bit his lip and frowned.  
“Can I still call you Mac? Or should I call you Lord Brock Toorack?”  
Jamie considered a moment and then shrugged  
“My name, my proper name I mean, is James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, Laird Broch Tuarach – no’ Brock Toorack –“  
He added and blinked slowly at Willie, his own version of a wink. Willie drew himself up to his full height and Jamie felt himself moving with him, silent encouragement radiating from every pore toward his bold wee laddie.  
“Mine is William Clarence Henry George Ransom, Ninth Earl of Ellesmere.”  
“Quite so. But if ye dinna mind me calling ye ‘Willie’ then I dinna see why ye canna call me ‘Jamie’… or ‘Mac’ if ye prefer.”  
“Mac.”  
Willie said with an air of finality that reminded Jamie of his father to the very marrow of his bones and for a moment he could have sworn he felt Brian stood beside them both.  
“Mac it is.”  
Jamie held out his hand and Willie took it, shaking firmly.  
“We had best reclaim Zeus for ye.”  
Jamie smiled gently and Willie shrugged, the motion an echo of Jamie’s earlier gesture  
“I suppose so.”  
“Come on.”  
Jamie jerked his head and side by side, they made their way toward John and Robbie, an easier silence over the meadow than had been known in many years.  
*


	19. We do the best we can.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had originally intended chapter 17 to kind of be the end of Bree and Jamie dealing with Willie's appearance together, but as these things often do, it niggled away at me and so I have spent the last hour exorcising the issues I had with how things had been left between them.   
> I hope that those of you who have been following this story will be happy with this resolution of J+B's clash but I know that it might disappoint some of you and for that I am sorry, truly.   
> This is simply how I felt it could have been, and what I felt each character would feel/respond with.  
> Thank you,  
> Han

Dinner was easier than any of the adults had dared to hope. Willie was introduced to Ian and the Murray children, all of whom had been prepared for his appearance and he was welcomed with a fond cordiality that Claire remembered receiving upon her own re-appearance nearly five years previously.   
Robbie, in his usual spot beside his mother, had insisted that Willie sit next to him and had spent the entire supper mimicking the older boy’s mannerisms and movements, staring up at him with the adoration of a puppy to its new master.   
The only stir of discord was with Brianna. She usually placed herself to Jamie’s left, eager to see him and tell him of her day, but that night she had politely offered that seat to Lord John and had seated herself further down the table, barely glancing at her father.  
Throughout the meal, Jamie made several attempts to engage her in the conversation, asking her opinion on various small items and each time she replied respectfully but without her usual warmth and he was becoming increasingly frustrated by it.   
As Jamie called her name down the table again that he felt Claire’s foot lightly cover his own, pressing down in gentle rebuke.  
Jamie looked across at his wife; eyebrows slightly raised in enquiry and took in the tiny shake of her head. He nudged his toe against the ball of her foot, probing his question further and she withdrew her foot, giving him all the answer he was likely to get.   
Jamie twitched his shoulders irritably but knowing his wife and daughter, accepted that forcing the issue would get him nowhere.  
His father had made that mistake with Jenny when she was a similar age and more often than not it ended with Jenny shouting some imprudent thing at him in a fit of temper caused by his relentless questioning or badgering about her mood. Sometimes she was punished for it but most often Brian would retreat to his study or go outside and leave Jenny to whatever she had previously been doing. Jamie remembered feeling fairly jealous of the double standard; had he dared to raise his voice to their Da, he would have been sent to the gate for a strapping without hesitation and he had wondered why Jenny was allowed to get away with it.  
Now, faced with the icy countenance of his own adolescent daughter, he understood his father’s hesitation. A part of Jamie did want to take her over his knee for she was still a child and her sulk was getting on his nerves, but in his more rational mind he knew that were he to take his frustrations out on her now there would be no justice in it. He could hardly thrash the lass for being impassively cordial to him, maddening as it was!   
“Have I … ah … caused some offence?”  
John was looking at Jamie with a somewhat cautious air and Jamie realised that he was scowling deeply at nothing in particular.   
“No, sorry. What were ye saying?”  
“The use of division of ranks by …”  
John resumed his theory on battle formation pros and cons and Jamie nodded absentmindedly along with him whilst brooding over what to do about his daughter. She likely wanted an apology from him, not for the earlier slap on the arse; Jamie hoped he had instilled enough humility in the lass for her to ken she had earned that during her encounter with John, but rather for William being here.   
Claire had a way of speaking with Brianna that was more like equals than parent to child (much as she had been raised by her Uncle Lamb he supposed) and Jamie could never quite get his head around it. If Brianna demanded an explanation of Claire’s actions, more often than not Claire would make them a pot of tea and sit down to discuss whatever it was that Bree wanted to know. For Jamie that was an indulgence that he could not abide.  
Looking down the table he could see her face in profile, her bones were hardening into the sure, clean lines of adulthood, a more delicate echo of his own harsh lines. The slight curve of childish fat about her jaw was starting to fall away and as she leant toward Jenny to say something Jamie took in the long, graceful arc of her neck and smooth rounding of her shoulders. She was a bairn, aye, but not for much longer. Should he tell her of Geneva? Of what passed between them and why? Would that help?  
He would speak with Brianna about most things; when she had first seen his back he had invited her questions and answered them with honesty but he could not allow his daughter to dictate what he did and did not tell her of his life. It wasn’t proper nor fitting! Then again, most thought it wasn’t proper or fitting to do so with one’s wife, yet Jamie and Claire shared almost everything and had done since the early days of their marriage…   
“Mac?”  
“Aye lad?”  
Jamie turned his attention to Willie, noticing Claire’s eyes flick towards them.   
“Brianna says that you fought in a great battle.”  
“Aye, I did.”  
Jamie caught Bree’s eye and flashed a small smile which she returned demurely.  
“How many men did you kill?”  
“Och, that’s hardly polite dinner conversation!”  
Jenny interjected and Willie eyed her pointedly  
“If the ladies would care to retire …”  
John cleared his throat hastily and stood up, almost unsettling his wine in his haste  
“Ah … Willie it is more polite to offer to excuse oneself than suggest …”  
“But …”  
“William.”  
John shook his head firmly and the boy fell silent, slumping against the back of his seat angrily.  
“You should apologise.”  
John prompted carefully; he wanted to avoid a full sulk if possible but was conscious of the dual challenge of Willie’s temper and each set of slanted blue eyes around the table watching to see what he would do.   
Willie narrowed his own slanted blue eyes slightly but made a fairly decent apology and John let out the breath he had not realised he was holding. Turning his attention back to Jamie, Willie glanced furtively over his shoulder and whispered  
“Tell me later!”  
Jamie grinned and nodded.  
“Aye, we can take a wee walk after supper if ye wish?”  
“Can I come?”  
Robbie asked and pouted as his father shook his head  
“No, ye ken it will be time for ye to be in bed.”  
“Not fair.”  
Robbie scowled darkly at his plate but made no further protest and perked up fairly quickly when Claire put another scoop of buttery mashed potato on his plate.  
*  
As the plates were cleared away and Willie went to collect his coat and borrow a scarf from wee Ian to protect against the chill, Jamie made his way across to Brianna.  
“Would ye care to accompany us?”  
Bree startled and looked up at him, her face momentarily unguarded and what Jamie saw made his chest feel tight.   
“No, thank ye Da. You and Willie should … take the time.”  
Her voice was level if perhaps too determinedly nonchalant and she turned her cheek as Jamie brushed her hair back behind her ear.  
“I would verra much like to spend time with ye as well.”  
Bree smiled slightly and reached up to catch her father’s hand in her own much smaller one.  
“Thank you. But I’d just be intruding.”  
Jamie sighed and shook his head  
“If I have made ye feel so, then I am more of a brute than I realised.”  
He placed his finger under Brianna’s chin and gently tilted her face towards him.  
“I probably canna fix every hurt that ye may be feeling right now a leannan, but if ye tell me what hurts the most, I will do what I can to quiet it for ye.”  
Bree pressed her lips together letting the soft bur of her father’s voice wash over her, trying to find an anchor point to grip hold of and stop the flow of her thoughts.  
“I can’t Da …”  
She gestured helplessly at the people around them, her eyes lingering on John stood by in the doorway, waiting for Jamie on one side and Willie on the other. Jamie followed her gaze, then straightened, turning to John.  
“I must speak wi’ my daughter a minute. Will ye and Willie wait for me?”  
John nodded, slightly startled by the strength of Jamie’s tone but more than happy to wait.  
“Of course.”  
He dipped a small, automatic bow and Jamie offered him the same before clasping Bree’s hand in his own and leading her through the kitchen and into the court yard, bathed in golden light as the sun began to set. He led her to the stables and then ducked beneath one of the low hanging floral eaves that led through to Claire’s wee herb garden.  
“No one will o’er hear us now.”  
Jamie smiled sitting on the little fence and patting the spot beside him. Bree smoothed her skirts and sat down gingerly, folding her hands neatly into her lap.  
“I don’t want to argue with you again.”  
She whispered and Jamie nodded  
“Nor I with you. So, let us promise that for now, we willna be foolish wi’ our tempers.”  
Bree smiled slightly and bobbed her head in agreement  
“Okay.”  
She took a deep breath and looked up at her father. For a moment she wished she had her paints, the way the sunlight caught his hair and sent sparks of red, orange and gold dancing through the softly curling lengths of it would make a brilliant canvas.  
“I know you said you wouldn’t tell me yet and you don’t have to,”  
Bree added hurriedly, though Jamie had made neither movement nor gesture to suggest impatience  
“But … Mama loves you so fully and I thought you loved her that way too. It’s why this was OK, me being here, leaving Daddy, leaving everything … it was OK because it was for true love but it isn’t true love is it? It’s regular love.”  
Jamie pressed his palms together and considered for a moment before speaking  
“I dinna think that what ye Mam and I have is regular and from what I ken of love, I dinna think it's truth relies on living the perfect life either.”  
He frowned and ran a hand self-consciously through his hair  
“I am no’ a perfect man, Brianna. I have done so many things that if I could … weel it doesna matter for we all only have the one life and we live it as best we can and canna undo the bits we hate. One thing I do have though, is that the love I bear for ye mother is pure and unadulterated. She is the breath in my lungs and the strength in my soul and I dinna say such things lightly.”  
“But William …”  
Brianna began but stopped herself, this was the argument they had this morning and no good could come of it. Her father would not tell her and she could not understand. After a minute she felt her father shift and stand up, stretching his back and Bree expected him to head back towards the house but instead he removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before plonking himself on the ground at her feet, neatly tucking his knees up and resting his chin on them.  
“My arse is too big for that wee fence.”  
Jamie smiled and cricked his neck first to the left and then the right.  
“Alright, if I’m to tell ye, I will tell you in full. I was a paroled at Helwater, ye ken this?”  
“Aye.”  
Bree nodded, hardly daring to speak lest she interrupt his chain of thought.  
“I wasna bound wi’ chains an’ I had food to eat but I was a prisoner none the less…”  
Jamie told his daughter his story, it did not take long, but the light filtering through the trees went from gold to bronze and as he spoke Bree moved silently from the fence to the dusty ground beside him; her hand clasped firmly in his as he spoke of Geneva. He did not tell Brianna of his daring climb into Geneva’s rooms, nor of her pleas for love. He did not tell her that the girl had been but four years older than Brianna herself or that she had cried out in pain before pleasure. Those were his burdens and his alone and he would carry them like weighted chains around his neck until the day he died for that was his penance; but he told her enough to help her understand the path he had chosen and how William came to be.  
“Oh Da.”  
“I made the choice lass I dinna ask for sympathy nor seek comfort,”  
Jamie wrapped and arm around his daughters shoulders and drew her close to him, gently running one large and smoothly calloused thumb beneath her eyes  
“But I do hope ye can see how what I did had no bearing on the love I carried in my heart for your Mam, or for ye.”  
Bree nodded, desperately trying to still her wobbling chin. Jamie smiled down at her and placed a kiss on the fiery crown of her head  
“I did promise William a walk after supper and he has been waiting a wee while.”  
He murmured and Bree nodded again  
“I know. Can I still come?”  
“Of course, I would like that verra much.”  
Jamie stood and helped Bree to her feet, tucking his jacket more securely around her.  
Willie and John were waiting outside the front gate of Lallybroch for Jamie and when they saw Brianna with him both faces lit up with genuine smiles.  
“Brianna! You’re coming too?”  
Willie ran up to her and Bree grinned sheepishly back at him  
“I am.”  
“We brought four apples, just in case you were.”  
Willie handed one to Bree and another to Jamie before retrieving his own from John, who gallantly held out his arm.  
“It would be my pleasure to escort you, if I may Brianna?”  
Bree nodded and gently threaded her arm through John’s looking over her shoulder at her Da and Willie, both absorbed in conversation about spitting apple seeds and demonstrating techniques with varying degrees of success.  
“I find a cherry pip to be a much better shot.”  
John winked shrewdly at Bree making the girl laugh  
“I think the trick is to try and roll your tongue a bit for some proper force!”  
She offered and stepping graciously to the side, demonstrated her skills in that particular department.  
“Good grief! You Fraser women have no end of talents!”  
John exclaimed and slowly, cautiously, edged his way into a delicate friendship with Brianna Ellen Fraser.


	20. Together, we are one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sort of Epilogue of sorts for those who wanted to see Jamie and Claire in the aftermath of Willie's arrival and the issues that may have risen there.  
> For those of you who always comment or leave kudos on my work - Thank you so much for sticking by me and for keeping me going. I would have to look to know the exact word count of There Are Four Of Us Now but it has been a long 'un and I cannot tell you how much it has meant to me to have your good wishes and constructive criticisms and all the other amazing things you add to the story.
> 
> \-- it's midnight this was second fic today, I'm emotional! I've just read this blurb back - definitely time for bed! Haha! 
> 
> Thank you,  
> Han xxx

The house felt unusually quiet, even for so late at night. Each crack of wood as the fire ate it's fill seemed to echo through the lairds chamber and the sparks appeared brighter than ever. Jamie pressed a kiss to the bare swell of Claire's shoulder and nuzzled his face into the hollow of her neck.  
“Can't sleep?”  
She murmured and felt his breath, hot and sudden on her skin as he laughed  
“I feel as though I could sleep for a hundred years Sassenach, yet when I close my eyes my mind wanders in a thousand directions and none of them lead to slumber.”  
“It has been an incredibly long day.”  
“Aye, and ye have been wonderful throughout.”  
Jamie ran his hand down her flank and gently edged up the hem of the loose nightshirt she wore, his fingers slipping up her thighs toward her centre, drawn to her heat like a moth to flame.  
“Jamie,”  
Claire stilled his hand and rolled to face him, her eyes so close as to form one single amber orb in his vision.  
“I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly.”  
“I always do, mo nighean donn.”  
“Are you going to ask Lord John to give Willie back to you?”  
“What?”  
Jamie pushed himself back onto his elbows and stared at Claire as if she had suddenly grown another head.  
“Are you going to ...”  
“I heard what ye said well enough Sassenach, but I dinna ken why ye would ask it!”  
Claire sat up and wrapped her arms lightly around her knees, drawing them to her chest.  
“Because he is your son, Jamie. He is so very clearly your son.”  
“Aye, he is.”  
Jamie said flatly, then raking a hand across his face, suddenly impatient  
“But he was never mine, no' in that sense. I couldna ask John such a thing...”  
“But you want to?”  
Claire's voice was studiously neutral and her face almost serene in the firelight but Jamie could see her knuckles standing out white against the skin of her hands, gripped tightly on her knees.  
“No, I dinna want to.”  
“Jamie ...”  
“Ye asked me and I've told ye.”  
He licked his lower lip and shook his head  
“Must I quarrel wi' ye too, Sassenach? It seems I canna escape such things today.”  
“Well it's not everyday your illegitimate first born son arrives.”  
Claire quipped, the acidity in her voice sudden and all the more stinging because of it.  
“Ye knew about William from the start Claire, dinna act as though his existence has shocked ye.”  
Jamie stood up and crossed to the window, bracing himself against the sill, letting the cool night air lift a little of the heat from his skin.  
“He has bloody shocked me! He's … He's bloody you!”  
“Och! Away! He's no more like me than Brianna!”  
Jamie snapped, he knew he had no right to be angry with Claire, she had dealt with William and John's presence with more grace and kindness than he had any right to expect, but he was tired and had enough guilt on his shoulders from the day without more being added.  
“But he's more like you than Robbie.”  
The words were soft and had the house chosen that moment to creak, Jamie would have missed them, but the old rafters remained stoically silent and he looked round at his wife with wide disbelieving eyes.  
“Ye are jealous on Robert's behalf?”  
“Not jealous but … you always wanted a son.”  
“And now I have two!”  
Jamie closed his eyes and slowly sank to the floor in a defeated crouch.  
“Claire, I canna stand this. Ye ha' never been a jealous woman ...”  
“I bloody well have!”  
She stood in a cloud of white cotton and glared at her husband  
“I've been jealous of every man and woman who has looked at you since the moment you first kissed me.”  
“No' the moment we met?”  
His lip lifted in a peace offering smile and Claire allowed her own smile to blossom very slightly  
“No, but then you have always been quicker on the uptake than me.”  
Jamie snorted and spread his legs out, straight ahead of him, long and glowing beside the fire, red-gold hairs throwing hazy shadows across his calves. He held one arm open and Claire grudgingly drew herself to him, curling on the drafty floor and settling into the crook of his arm.  
“Do ye really think me so incapable o' love that I must favour one son over another for his looks?”  
“No. I don't. But I also know how … possessive you are. You can't possibly be happy for another man to raise him?”  
“I wouldna say I'm possessive.”  
Jamie mused and Claire gently pinched the soft skin beside his nipple  
“You are, trust me.”  
“Aye, weel, maybe a wee bit o'er the things that mean most to me...”  
Jamie settled his hand on the slope of Claire's bottom and she smiled despite herself.  
“Don't try to distract me.”  
“I'm tryin' to distract mysel' Sassenach, and it's workin' too...”  
He grinned, lowering his head to kiss her mouth, pulling lightly with his teeth at the fullness of her lower lip until he felt her smile against him.  
“Jamie.”  
“Another man was always going to raise him Claire. I am just glad it is one I ken and trust.”  
Jamie rested his cheek lightly on Claire's head, brushing away strands of hair that tickled his nose. He felt her arms encircle his chest but made no move to draw her closer, not yet  
“You don't want to even suggest it?”  
“In my heart, I long for it and I'll do ye the honour of no' pretending otherwise, for ye ken me well Sassenach and I wouldna try to lie to ye.”  
Jamie smiled  
“But the laddie has a path that is set and a home that is happy. He doesna need me, nor the confusion that such a revelation would bring to his life. It's bad enough that ...”  
He bit the words off and Claire looked up at him questioningly  
“Go on.”  
She urged and this time Jamie's arms did tighten around her  
“It's bad enough that I have done such a thing to one of my bairns, Brianna. I wouldna see it happen to another.”  
“That was my doing Jamie, not yours.”  
“We've discussed it before Claire and ye ken the truth of it as much as I do: Ye had no more choice in the matter than the clouds do to bring rain. Ye found me and ye had to come.”  
“But ...”  
“But nothing. Had I died on Culloden moor as I meant to, none of this ...”  
Jamie sighed  
“Yet I canna regret it for I lie here, guilty and broken but wi' ye in my arms and three children asleep in bed and what is left o' my tattered soul strains against my body, burstin' for the joy of it all. Oh Claire! I dinna understand it but I wouldna change it for the world.”  
They lay silent for a time and Jamie thought she had fallen asleep when her voice drifted up to him again  
“He calls you Mac, just like Fergus calls you Milord. I heard it at dinner, it has the same meaning Jamie.”  
“Aye, I ken it does mo chridhe.”  
Claire sat up slightly to look him in the eyes, her own glowing with the intent of her words.  
“If you change your mind Jamie, I will stand by you. Willie would have a home here, always.”  
“Ye would do that?”  
Jamie peered down at her, silent awe written across his face.  
“I would. Frank … you know he couldn't father a child?”  
“Aye.”  
Jamie nodded and Claire shrugged  
“If he had been able to, I could have had another baby. Would you have turned me away? If I had come back with Brianna and another? One that could have had Randall's face?”  
Jamie's breath caught somewhere just below his throat as he considered for a moment and when he answered, his voice was heavy and low  
“I would ha' welcomed ye back did ye come bearin' satan himself on ye shoulder. It wouldna ha' made a difference to me.”  
“Then what makes you think I love you any the less that I would not do the same?”  
Jamie answered her with another kiss, slower and less teasing, conveying all that he could not say.  
“A thousand kisses”  
Claire murmured and Jamie nodded, butting his forehead gently against hers, his eyes closed.  
“then a hundred.”  
“I love you.”  
The fire roamed across their bodies then, illuminating each curve of muscle and dip of flesh. All words vanished and the need for speaking them fled as shadows flee from light. They came together, joined as one until their coupling wrenched gasps from open mouths, and together fell slowly asleep, safe in each other's embrace.


End file.
